


Beneath Different Stars

by oceankat8



Series: LadyIrina is personally responsible for me not sleeping at night [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Found Family, I have no excuse for this except I finally saw Mando’s face and thought, I’m sorry but not really, M/M, Slow Burn, So now there’s this, UST, why Not more of this?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceankat8/pseuds/oceankat8
Summary: A role-reversal that has Dynn Jaren, a stormtrooper with an attitude problem running away with a stolen asset.And Corin, a Mandalorian bounty hunter that’s supposed to be hunting him down for the good of his clan.Except, what happens when the “asset” isn’t what he thought it was? And the “stormtrooper” he was chasing packs a bit of a punch?
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Corin (LadyIrina)
Series: LadyIrina is personally responsible for me not sleeping at night [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572814
Comments: 201
Kudos: 458





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



DI-917 tucked the child deeper into the blankets covering it as much as he could in the hopes that it would be enough to keep it warm despite the frigid temperature. He had been lucky, nothing else would explain how he’d been able to even find a cave of this sort during a blizzard while basically kidnapping a child from the rest of his unit. 

Because that’s what had happened, their entire job on this planet was to keep an eye on it and wait until someone higher on the ladder had shown up to collect. It was dangerous and everyone had been excited to finally be among such important members of the empire even after its downfall. They had worked in shifts, keeping an eye on it, making sure it didn’t run off into the snow and get itself killed.

DI-917 had spent many shifts playing with it, watching as it cooed and laughed and he had become quite attached, more attached then the others. More attached than he really should have allowed himself to get.

Attached enough to not want the poor thing anywhere near Moff Gideon.

He knew him too well by now for that.

He was grateful that a stormtrooper so low down on the food chain wouldn’t leave an impression on him, it gave him an advantage when he finally acted. Stole the child from under the bastard’s nose and ran.

Probably would have been smarter if they weren’t currently in the middle of a frozen wasteland… but he’d never been the kind to really think things through. As his commanding officer often lamented. 

The child cried out in his arms, clearly still cold and frightened. 

“Shhh,” he rocked back and forth gently, curling around him as he desperately tried to think of ways to warm him. “I’ve got you little one, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

He took off his helmet, it was heated for the weather, and almost big enough for the child to fit in entirely. But it would leave them vulnerable, since he wouldn’t be able to see anyone coming through the blizzard, or hear anything over the coms. Not that they’d be broadcasting it to him, but it was a security he didn’t like losing. 

But the kid mattered more.

A soft coo warmed his heart and DI-917 smiled despite the cold, a small green hand lifted towards him and he allowed the child to softly touch his cheek. He laughed, emotion welling up in his chest, how could any of his brothers be willing to hurt this little one? Could they not see how precious he was? Or were they too blinded by duty?

“Did they ever give you a name little one?” He asked gently, but he only got wide unblinking eyes as an answer. 

He patted him on the head, “No matter, it has been some time since I myself had a name as well. Sometimes I don’t even know if I remember it correctly.” 

The child cooed, tiny hand going to tug at his bottom lip in a curious fashion. It made it hard to speak, but he allowed it. There was a subtle realization that he would let this child get away with just about anything, but instead of fear or worry, he felt nothing but warmth and a sort of affection that had him wondering where he would put all the emotion that was suddenly swelling up and spilling out of him. 

“Yeah uhh,” he waited until he was sure his voice wouldn’t crack, he wanted to be strong for him, stability in such an unstable place, “it might have had a y? Could have been an i though. I’m fairly certain it was Dynn” 

He chuckled, pulling the kid’s hand away, gently, before playing with his large ears. There was a soft coo, so he figured the kid must like it.

“I remember my mother used to call me that before they took me away.” 

“Dynn Jarren… or Din Djaren? I …” He bit his lip, “I really wish I could remember. But that’s against my training”

His cheeks were probably turning blue by now, the warmth of his suit was doing nothing to help his head against the cold. They were going to have to find a way off this planet, but Dynn didn’t have a ship. 

Couldn’t fly one if he did honestly, a trooper can’t mutiny if they can’t leave. At least, that’s what his platoon used to joke. “ _If I could learn to fly, I’d be so far gone to the edges of the galaxy, even a Mandalorian wouldn’t be able to find me, much less my dumbass commander”_

If only he could. 

But he was a traitor now, and as thick as their bonds had been, Dynn new what happened to traitors. And he wasn’t about to let a kid get involved in that. Not this one. 

They didn’t get to have _this_ kid.

  
-

A simple job, he had been promised, with an impressive payout. Enough Beskar to deck out every foundling in the covert with their first helmet and Corin had been hard pressed to say no. 

The guild hadn’t mentioned the part where he’d be working with the Empire. The one thing he hated more than anything else. The thing his father and uncle had dedicated their lives to until it killed them and left him completely alone.

“So, Mandalorian,” Moff Gideon said, objectively one of the worst the Empire has to offer, which was a feat all on its own, “it’s simple. You return the wayward stormtrooper and what he stole, and we give you enough Beskar to make yourself an entirely new set of armor”

The job was suspiciously simple, something he expected even the man’s own men would be able to handle on their own. It had Corin itching under his armor, a creeping feeling of dread that he wasn’t getting the full truth, but it was against the guild’s code to get too suspicious. So instead he pushed down his discomfort, and nodded his head.

Mod Gideon was an irritation the likes of which Corin had never wanted to deal with, but he’d already taken the job. And he had pride. He wouldn’t let down the guild, or his covert. Not even if it took his life, especially if it took his life.

They were worth any price he had to pay for what they had done for him, and if he had to put aside his hatred to do what was best for them, he would.

“Do you have a tracking fob?” 

Moff Gideon smiled “of course”

He turned around, and Corin had the sudden urge to make a face at him beneath the helmet. But it wouldn’t be as satisfying if he couldn’t see the disrespect himself. So he settled for rolling his eyes and watching as the man grabbed a small device and held it out for him to take.

“I trust you’ll be back soon?”

“Worried he’ll fly away?”

His eyes darkened, “I warn you, this one… is different. He won’t be the easy fight you’re expecting.”

He didn’t bother to respond to that, the idea that a stormtrooper would even be able to hold his own against a Mandalorian was laughable. But Corin…

He shook his head. He took the oath, he wore the armor, he was a Mandalorian just as much as the rest of his clan. They had spent years telling him that.

He just wished he felt as strongly as they did about his place. So until then, he would do his duty, and provide. 

Dynn woke up startled, a feeling in the back of his head that they needed to move, and to move now. He checked on the child, softly sleeping in the warmth of his helmet. At least they had made it through the night, that was the hardest part. 

Now they got to do something fun.

“Ready to steal a Tie-fighter?” He said to the sleeping child as he gathered him to his chest. “Cause we are going to steal a tie fighter.”

How they were going to do that was a completely different question, but Dyn rarely let that stop him. So they left the cave.

They were at least eight hours away from the base walking, it was the minimum distance Dynn had felt safe traveling before stopping to rest. But there was an outpost to the north, it was another ten or so hours away by foot, but it was understaffed and the guard shifts were often bored, spending more time on their data pads or napping in their helmets rather than staying completely on guard.

Besides, no one would expect him to make it that far in this weather. 

That’s why he would. 

It was less than an hour in the howling wind and snow before the child woke up, cranky from being stuffed into such a small space and likely hungry as well. He rocked him gently, singing an old marching song from his training days and trying to soothe it as best he could. He didn’t want to stop so early in their journey, it was dangerous to lose momentum out here.

Hours passed, and it barely seemed like they had gone any distance at all, the footsteps he’d left behind as he trudged along rarely lasted more than a moment and the White dancing around him seemed endless.

There were times where he found himself wondering if he was still even going the right way, itching to put his helmet back on just for a moment to check. 

But even a moment wouldn’t be worth it.

So he continued forward and hoped he was making progress, the child held tight in his arms.

It was another four hours before the child acted up once again, his cries loud and piercing and Dynn knew it was time. He dug them a small shelter in the snow, packing tightly and forming bricks that he stacked around them. It wouldn’t be any warmer than the cave, but it would keep out the weather and that was all he could hope for now. 

“Here” he said, gently shushing the baby as he took out the last of his ration packs. If he didn’t eat, it should last a couple of days, so he sorted it out and gave a portion to the child. Feeding him slowly and making sure it went down gently. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about rearing children,” he said as he packed the rest away for later, “but my mother always used to pat me on the back when I ate so uh…”

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so awkward, it wasn’t like the child was going to judge him. Dynn picked him up gently from the helmet, holding him gently against his chest and began to pat him on the back while bouncing him slowly. It was soothing, and Dynn could feel the baby loosening against him as he relaxed. His chest felt tight, 

How could anyone want to hurt this? How much heart is carved out before one is alive only by the barest of definition? If Dynn had killed Mof Gideon back then, when he’d had the chance so long ago, would this child have been left with his family, untouched, or would some other twisted part of the empire have stolen him away? 

Dynn sighed and continued to gently pat the child, there was no way to really know. And no use in dwelling, all he could do was be thankful he hadn’t been recognized, that he’d been able to grab the child once he found out exactly who it was that had come to collect him.

He was abruptly interrupted from his thoughts as the child let out a loud burp and Dynn chuckled. “Are you okay now little one?” He asked, pulling him gently away and settling him back into the warm helmet. “Because we’re leaving again, and we won’t be able to stop for sometime”

The child let out a soft coo, which Dynn took as an affirmative, so he stood up and kicked his way out of their small shelter. He quickly destroyed it in case it was used to help track them, and then he started moving once more. Step by frigid step. 

The stormtrooper was smarter than Corin had given him credit to be. At first it seemed simple, the tracking fob was leading him to one place, roughly three hours away by scooter, at least, in the blizzard, and Corin had assumed he’d either hunkered down somewhere with the asset, or that he had died. 

Either way it wouldn’t be long before he found an empty cave with absolutely no sign that anyone had even been there. And Corin sighed, he wasn’t good at tracking, or navigation, and apparently this stormtrooper was going to do everything he could to use Corin’s weakness against him. 

And he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

Corin got back on the scooter, it still had a bit of gas left, enough to go another couple of hours before heading back. But he didn’t know how much was going to be wasted trying to search a blizzard for a single man wearing _pure white armor_ and he really didn’t like the thought of getting trapped out in it. 

But this job was for the covert, so he did it anyways, and set out once again. His tracker slowly bringing him closer to the poor son of a bitch Moff Gideon had set his eyes on. 

A few hours later, the tracker was consistent once more, it seemed he had hunkered down again. And Corin felt he was finally getting closer, switching his helmet to detect heat signatures just in case he stumbled upon him. He could almost taste his victory, was counting all the ways the Beskar could help the foundlings and the rest of the covert, before it started moving again and he had to smother a groan of frustration. 

“Why won’t you just. _Stay still_ ” he growled as he changed directions once more. And how was he traveling this far on foot of all things? In this weather? Was the man actually a Tauntaun?

He increased his speed, he had to catch up eventually. 

It was another couple of hours before he heard it, a soft singing in front of him that caused Corin to immediately turn off the scooter. He didn’t want to be heard coming. 

It was an old imperial marching song that he could almost remember his father singing to him as a boy, and Corin walked towards it. Enthralled, why was he singing? How did it not come out muffled and metallic like everything else he’d ever heard from a stormtrooper through their helmets. 

But that question was soon answered when he finally caught up to him, he was digging, and he wasn’t wearing his helmet, despite the cold. Instead it was laying next to him in an already dug out place, and Corin found himself arrested by the sight.

A Stormtrooper, but certainly no clone. His face was soft and gentle, and his hair fell in soft waves that were barely within regulations if they even were in the first place, with a small smile as he dug and packed the snow around it. 

He clearly knew what he was doing, and his confidence had Corin almost stepping back. A stormtrooper they had said, had practically sneered. A traitor.

How could someone look so at peace after abandoning everything they knew? Corin had certainly never looked that way beneath his own helmet. And he had been taken in, accepted into a culture, never truly on his own.

And that is what had him stepping forward, he had a job to do after all, and a pretty face had never stopped him before. 

A gentle coo distracted him though, and the man looked up. All the softness had vanished from his face and his eyes had gone cold, as frigid as the snow around him. 

Corin didn’t even get the chance to reach for his blaster before the man had grabbed his helmet and practically thrown it into the half built shelter. He missed his first shot, not expecting that reaction. Was there something in the helmet?

He didn’t really get to finish that thought as the man fired back, his aim steady and accurate, _some stormtrooper_. 

But the Beskar protected him, and the other man seemed to realize it. Corin almost smirked before he was being hit in the head with the pistol itself and tackled to the ground.

There was no way this man had only ever been trained as a stormtrooper, Corin thought as he rolled to avoid a pin, only to have the man kneed him in the helmet, almost breaking his nose with it. He growled and grabbed the man’s leg, pulling him close to get his own punch in, but the man smiled, a vicious thing that was all teeth and Corin had to roll to dodge the blade before it was stabbed between his ribs. 

Smart, angry, far too skilled, no wonder Moff Gideon had warned him, this man was nothing like what he had expected. And Corin found himself starting to actually enjoy the fight, it reminded him of the times he would train with the other Mandalorians, of the times he was able to prove himself. He felt alive, he felt useful, he felt like a Mandalorian.

But the fight couldn’t last forever, and another soft coo had Corin distracted, just enough, that the other man got in a hard enough hit, and everything went dark. 


	2. Chapter 2

No wonder this job seemed too easy, Corin thought as he slowly gained consciousness, what did a man like that do to be put on a planet like this? 

Perhaps the reason behind his defection was the Empire‘s willingness to squander his talents. He’d fit in as a Mandalorian-

No. Wait. He was an enemy right now, even if he left Corin‘s helmet on, and smiled like the sun shone on him alone. And his hair looked so soft to the touch and windswept despite the fact that stormtroopers wore their helmets almost as often as Mandalorians. 

Except, why  _ wasn’t _ he wearing his helmet.

Corin stood up slowly, the question stuck in his head. It didn’t make sense.

It was a specific grade of suit made for snow, it was heated. The helmet included. So why take it off in this weather? The cold must be biting and painful, even Corin was feeling it through his own armor. 

Yet he didn’t put it on. 

Was it an image thing? A pride thing?

But no one saw him out in the snow like that. Unless he expected them to come after him, Corin had after all. But, he seemed too smart to let something like pride slow him down. 

So it was because of whatever was in the helmet. It must be something that needed to be kept warm. 

Ergo, the asset was in the helmet.

Corin didn’t bother speculating exactly what could need to be kept heated to the point that an apparently self-serving stormtrooper would risk his literal head for it. But if that’s the job, that’s the job. 

And maybe, he let himself hope just a little bit, he could get the helmet without killing the man. Moff Gideon has mentioned him only in so far as an obstacle, not demanding his head or anything. So maybe, maybe it would be okay if he just stole the thing back. Besides, his clan would no doubt appreciate him biting his thumb at the Empire if even in a small way. 

Mind made up, Corin trudged back to where he had left his scooter. It took a bit to dig it out, but the engine was designed for the cold, so he needn’t worry if it would start. The stormtrooper had a head start, but he’s still walking. And no amount of clever tricks and impressive skill is going to allow him to completely outrun a snow scooter in a blizzard. 

So Corin set off, using the tracking fob to keep an eye on which direction to stick to. It was moving at a steady pace now, the stormtrooper was unlikely to stop anytime soon now that he knows a Mandalorian is after him. 

A Mandalorian was after him.

How did Moff Gideon of all people get a Mandalorian on his side? For him? A rogue Stormtrooper with a baby. 

Dynn shook his head, incredulous, “you must be of some value little one,” he said to the child, he blinked up at him, cooing softly and burrowing himself deeper into the blankets tucked around him in the helmet. It really was too small to carry him in for much longer.

If only he’d thought to steal the basket, but it would have been so much harder to sneak out. The child himself was tiny and eager to spend time with Dynn, even if that time was escaping an empirical outpost in a frozen tundra on a backwater planet with no other place to go.

It made him wonder just how badly the others had treated him that he’d been so willing to leave the warmth and safety of his, well nursery wasn’t a good word. But cell didn’t really work either. Room?

Dynn just sighed, he hadn’t been able to feel his lips for sometime now, and was almost certain frostbite was nipping at the tips of his ears. The outpost would have Bacta spray though, so as long as they can get there before they fall off, and he doesn’t get caught, it should be fine. 

He held the helmet closer, they should be fine.

Except a Mandalorian was after them, and Dynn had heard many tales of exactly what happens to troopers who try and fight those things. Rarely did they survive enough to tell the tales in person. 

Dynn had been tempted to stagger their route, add time and complications to it so that the Mandalorian would have more trouble finding them, but if he had found them so easily in the snow, then he likely already had a tracking fob. 

So that would be useless, and only add unnecessary risk to the child. The only way to go was straight and hope he was out long enough that they could make it, Dynn doubted he’d get so lucky as to knock him out a second time. 

It wasn’t too long before they were at the edges of the outpost, the sky just beginning to darken. Dynn wanted to put on his helmet, see the exact time and move when the shift changed. But, sometimes one just had to rely on leg work, and luck.

So Dynn tucked the child close, shushed him gently and watched the tower to see who was on shift.

It was about ten minutes before he saw two troopers passing their little hiding spot, it looked like CT-902 and LG-167. Dynn managed a sad smile, looked like luck really was on his side. 

He whistled, calling their attention, CT-902 looked over at him and lowered his weapon. D-man? Where’s your helmet? 

Dynn just shrugged, jogging close to them. Apparently word hadn’t got out, or if it did, they weren’t listening to the briefing. Knowing them, the latter was more likely so Dynn just scratched at his neck and faked casualness. He’d never been good at acting, or hiding his emotions. 

“It Broke, the Seargent likely won’t be happy to hear it”

LG-167 laughed, “are you kidding? You probably broke it fighting a Wampa, every time your number is even  _ mentioned _ half of control lights up.”

Dynn felt something cold and hard settle in his chest, similar to guilt, he’d taken an oath just like them. They had a purpose, a job, they were a team. If troopers weren’t looking out for each other then no one was looking out for them. Not anyone in the empire, and certainly not anyone in the new republic. 

But Moff Gideon wasn’t worth the life of a child, and brotherly bonds, as much as they mattered -especially to Dynn who had always done what he’d thought was best for those around him- weren’t worth the life of a child either.

So he smiled, a crooked thing and turned to LG-167, he was the better fighter of the two, though it wasn’t saying much. When he moved to pat Dynn on the shoulder, he moved fast, left hand grabbing quickly and using the other man’s arm as leverage to twist him up and over his shoulder, landing hard on his head and knocking him out. 

“I’m sorry about this.” He said as he turned to CT-902. 

The other man backed up in fear, “You’re the traitor?” His voice cracked, “but you’re… why?-“

But he didn’t finish his thought because Dynn had him out almost as quick as his partner. He left the two of them in a small dug out space, their armor should keep them from falling to the cold, but this way the wind was better blocked.

He felt sick.

“Come on kid” he picked his helmet up again, dusting off some of the snow that had collected on it, “we’re almost there. Inside will be warmer.”

Dynn followed his fellow troopers’ trail and knocked on the door, slamming it with his fist.

“What’s the code?” A voice asked through a small intercom to the left. Dynn sighed, this would probably be more fun if he didn’t feel so awful about it.

“I forgot” he said, heart hammering in his chest.

“Damn it Trooper,” the voice said before there was a click and the door opened, “who's your commanding officer, cause I’m writing you up for not paying attention to the-“

The other man froze when he saw Dynn.

“DI-917?” Weren’t you assigned to the main post?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Dynn asked, surprise genuine. “Who did they say was the traitor?”

“The traitor? They didn’t say-“ the other stormtrooper froze for a second hand slowly going to his pistol. But Dynn has his up first. 

“They really messed this up”

“Let me in” Dynn asked, his voice quiet, stern. 

He stepped aside and Dynn walked quickly into the warmth, the door closed behind him. 

“I guess you really were too good for the rest of us” Dynn didn’t let him out of his sight, pistol trained and steady. The guilt was still there, these people, this job, it was everything to him. 

The kid cooed softly, scared. 

Dynn moved as the other trooper got distracted by it, eyes wide. He slammed the but of the blaster into a weak point of the helmet, the hardened plastic gave way, but with any luck he’d be okay. 

And out long enough for them to be off-world.

The good news is that as a stormtrooper, it’s very easy to pretend you aren’t important. 

Dynn knew where the hanger was, so he started heading that way before he slowed down and stopped once more. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, something was wrong.

Of course something was wrong, but Dynn had long ago learned to trust his instincts.

He slipped into one of the bathrooms, it was empty and small, only big enough for one person at a time, and judging by the smell was likely unused and rarely cleaned. 

That meant no one would be coming in, unless that Mandalorian had caught up? If so, Dynn would have to figure it out then. Wasting time fretting would not help in the heat of a fight. 

The child had fallen asleep, likely due to the warmth of the building and gentle rocking he received as Dynn walked, it brought a soft smile to his face. 

But he had a plan now, so he gently lifted the child from inside his helmet, careful to keep him wrapped in the blankets and hidden. He subconsciously stretched, his body thankful for the new leg room that came with being cradled to Dunn’s chest as opposed to stuffed into a helmet. Which was decidedly not meant to cradle a child.

This helmet was barely made to even protect the wearer, cheap plastic the best they could do for disposable troops. 

Dynn put it back on. The interface activated as it clicked into place and Dynn let out a breath of relief. He hadn’t been locked out. It seemed they really didn’t know which stormtrooper defected, leave it to the higher ups to not be able to tell any of them apart. 

But for now, Dynn could use that as an advantage. 

He walked out of the bathroom, child held in his hand less delicately than he’d like, but it would be more suspicious if he was caught cradling something than if he’s just carrying it around. 

Just a few more steps-

The stormtrooper was headed to an outpost. Of course. There was no way he’d survive long otherwise, and if that was the case, he was probably after a ship. Which meant that Corin knew exactly where to head him off, if he wasn’t too late. 

If he hadn’t wasted time tracking him instead of just figuring out where he was going ahead of time like a better Mandalorian would have. The rest of his clan wouldn’t have had trouble with a lonely stormtrooper, the job would be done by now, stormtrooper dead and-

And maybe it was a good thing Corin wasn’t the best Mandalorian then. 

He approached the outpost, weird, there weren’t any guards, and he wasn’t exactly hiding.

“Hello?” He called out, trying to be heard over the constant noise of the wind. He frowned, frustrated, it would be easier to get in if he could ask for help, but it seemed the easy way was once again lost to him. Bad luck. 

He was grumbling to himself as he trotted along the edge of the outpost looking for a way in. But he tripped over something buried in the snow, tangling his legs and knocking him to the ground in an undignified heap. He cursed softly and turned his head to glare at whatever it was that had embarrassed him.

Only to see two stormtroopers lying dead in the snow, clearly taken out by the rogue. They hadn’t stood a chance.

One groaned, surprising Corin and shifted slightly before settling back into unconsciousness. He hadn’t killed them, he should have, it would have been easier, quicker too no doubt, and left him more time to escape since they wouldn’t be able to eventually come after him. But he hadn’t.

Corin once again found himself wondering exactly how this man had become a stormtrooper, and what had caused him to suddenly defect, when he so clearly cared about the lives of his fellow stormtroopers.

Then again, he hadn’t killed Corin either. 

And wasn’t that just the question of he day.

He kicked at the stormtroopers, trying to wake them back up, but it was to no avail. But they’d probably live, and he had a job to do, so he kept moving. Finding them there was good luck, now he knows for sure where the rogue was, it wouldn’t be long before he could corner him. Grab the Asset, finish the job, figure out what was going on without asking too many questions.

His head hurt, but he pushed through it. The door wasn’t far away, but no one answered when he buzzed the intercom or knocked. Because of course not.

He slipped his rifle off his shoulder and took a few steps back. It cut through the door like butter and Corin stepped through, it was clear the rogue had been this way as well, since he’d left yet another softly groaning, injured stormtrooper lying on the ground just inside. 

Corin felt unnerved, it was a different feeling to track someone who left a wake of corpses behind them, it usually meant a lack of control, or of care, but this man left a trail of bodies that were just broken enough to be fixed, and that was terrifying in a way Corin hadn’t felt in some time. 

It was also exciting, because he knew he had held his own against him before. And this time, this time he wouldn’t let himself be distracted or caught off guard. 

He followed the soft beeping of the tracking fob. He had no idea where anything was, but the plain gray walls all looked the same, and undecorated door after undecorated door wasn’t helping him figure it out. Was it too much to ask for a map? No, likely it was built this way on purpose, so that invaders, those new to the outpost would get lost and unable to locate what they wanted with ease while those that had been stuck here for months on end could easily navigate.

Ironic then, this particular situation. 

But luck seemed to prevail when he ran into a small cluster of stormtroopers. They immediately turned on him, blasters pointed and badly trained on him. He wanted to flinch, not at the threat, but at how clearly untrained they came across. 

“Halt, who are you?” The one in front asked, Corin just raised his hands, slowly. 

It would be pretty bad afterall, if between him and the rogue he was the one who ended up killing stormtroopers. 

“I was hired by Moff Gideon” the storm troopers froze, some in clear fear and others in surprise. “One of your men stole something and I’m supposed to get it back, can you point me to the hanger?” 

The stormtroopers all shared a look before putting their guns away, “so you’re the Mandalorian huh, you really do anything for money?”

Corin grit his teeth, he hated when people insulted his culture, his people. It wasn’t their fault they were driven from their land and forced into nomadic tribes. Even if it was common before, they still had somewhere to return to, but now. 

When you were on the run it was hard to be picky, that’s why even Corin had to pull his weight. For the covert, the foundlings. 

“I don’t think you could afford me” he says instead and mentally pats himself on the back. He’d been practicing snappy one liners, but they rarely felt satisfactory when spoken to a corpse, or a block of frozen carbonite. 

He pushes through them, hoping that was roughly the right direction and smiled almost giddily under the mask when they followed him, the one that had spoken muttering insults under his breath. 

“It’s this way Mando”, one said, turning to the left and entering a hangar. 

Corin looked at his tracking fob, it lead behind them, for some reason the rogue hadn’t gotten to the hangar yet. Maybe he was hiding out? Trying to avoid his friends so he didn’t get caught. 

That just made this easier for Corin though. An ambush was easy to set up, 

He overheard something interesting from the stormtroopers though, “you know, if D-Man was still stationed out here we wouldn’t need some Mandalorian coming in and throwing us off.”

Another one chuckled chiming in “oh come off it, he’s not that great.”

“You’re just mad he beat you at six sticks last quarter, you gotta admit though, he could fight”

“Too bad he’s babysitting Moff Gideon, you hear the commander bragging about him? You’d think the rest of us didn’t exist.”

“D-Man’s nice though, you’ve just never actually had a conversation with him”

“Not my fault he can barely get more than a sentence out before ruining his tough guy look” 

D-Man? Was that a trooper nickname or were they really called goofy stuff like that? 

And why was he suddenly very worried he knew  _ exactly _ who they were talking about. 

It wasn’t too long before his tracking fob showed the rogue getting closer, Corin found his hands getting clammy, his heart speeding up, soon. Was he nervous to fight him again? He shouldn’t be. He was a Mandalorian, at least, by the barest of standards, so he shouldn’t be wary of a fight. 

Or was he simply nervous to see his face again? Would it look as soft and handsome as it had surrounded by snow and singing softly while he worked, or was Corin blinded by his own weaknesses even then? 

There was really only one way to find out, the beeping grew frantic, he was drawing near, possibly only seconds away. What would he do? Shoot first and ask questions later?

Would he finally give up on his lack of fatalities once he’s outnumbered, ambushed like this? Would Corin finally act first, and would he be able to detain him, to knock the rogue down like he had the guards outside? Or would he actually have to kill him to finish the job, to bring the Beskar back to the covert, the foundlings. 

There was only one way to truly find out, and it was to wait, second by agonizing second, until the door slowly slid open and standing on the other side was a trooper in full snow gear, identical to the others. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Let me know how I am doing, I have discovered keeping people in character while also giving them entirely different backstories... is very hard. So let me know what you like, and what I can work on in future chapters. Please 😅


	3. Chapter 3

Corin sighed, lowering his weapon. 

Just another stormtrooper, the place was full of them after all. He glared at his tracker, did he read it wrong or-

No. 

It was was still blinking like crazy, especially towards the new stormtrooper as he mingled with the others, something clutched tightly under his arm but held in a way so as not to draw attention to it. 

Corin felt like an idiot, of course he would put the helmet back on. Easier to just walk right up and fit right in. He wanted to slam his head against a wall. 

Instead, he snuck up behind him, using everything his mentors had ever taught him about stealth and quiet, and moved to grab-what he expected was- the asset. 

He barely got a hand on it before the stormtrooper was turning to put a blaster under his chin, but it was a move easily foiled and Corin gripped the blaster by the barrel, using it as momentum to twist the other man around with his arm and catching him off balance. 

What happened next was like trying to catch water with his bare hands. The rogue stormtrooper leaned into the grip instead of fighting against it and losing his footing, causing Corin to subconsciously loosen his hold. Then the rogue was letting go of the blaster entirely and catching himself with his newly freed hand as he backflipped gracefully into a fighting stance just out of reach. 

Corin didn’t gape, but he did find himself wondering if maybe the reason so many stormtroopers were so cartoonishly incompetent, was because this one had stolen all of their collective skill. 

But then he turned on his heel, and ran.

Corin ran after him, the rest of the stormtroopers that had been _right there_ and doing nothing at all in response to their little- would that even really qualify as a fight? It had certainly felt more like a dance to Corin. Step two three, step two three. His movements had been far too graceful to really be seen as anything else. 

He could hear their confused voices though, _who do we shoot? Is he the rogue? It couldn’t be him, he’d never-!_

But he didn’t linger, chasing the rogue stormtrooper was a feat of its own and he couldn't risk losing a second. The man clearly knew exactly where he was going, and there was no way Corin would be able to cut him off in this labyrinth of an outpost without risking getting lost and losing him all together. 

But a stormtrooper was still just that, and the Mandalorians were better trained, even Corin, and he found himself shrinking the man’s lead little by little until he could grab him by the shoulder, twisting it towards him and sweeping a leg into the back of his knees so that he’d fall roughly into the ground. 

Corin reached for whatever was bundled in his arms as he groaned, and the man only turned his back to him, tucking it in closer to his chest.

“Don’t-“ He wheezed, the air had clearly been knocked out of him, but he was recovering fast, “Don’t you dare touch it” 

Corin rolled his eyes, of course he wouldn’t care that Corin had been going out of his way to not kill or permanently maim him and focus only on the thing in his arms. That’s how it always was, asset this, bounty that. 

“What’s so important you’d betray everyone you know and care about?” Corin asked, making an assumption based on how readily accepted he seemed to be by the others. Something that made a part of Corin ache, and think of home, of the covert and how he wished he could fit in as seamlessly there, as this rogue stormtrooper seemed to here.

Corin barely dodged the knife, this time expecting it enough to grab the rogue’s wrist and twisting so hard he could hear a crack. It would heal, he hoped. He told himself he didn’t feel guilty for hurting someone that was actively trying to kill him, but he’d never really feel comfortable with that. With putting himself first. 

So he let go and twisted into a grappling hold instead, grabbing the rogue’s arm before he could pull it towards his chest in pain and pinning it straight against his shoulder as he dug his knee into the side of the man’s head and neck. 

Now if he wanted to do anything he’d have to let go of the asset and Corin could grab it and get this job over with. He’d already proven he was the faster of the two of them, and now it should be clear he was the stronger as well, so why wasn’t the man backing down?

Didn’t he see it was the smart thing to do? It wasn’t like stormtroopers had a code of honor, he could take the loss and move on with his life. Probably not as a stormtrooper, but he’d be _alive_. Did that mean nothing to this man?

Corin found himself grinding his teeth and wondered just _what_ was so important to this man that he would rather die than just Hand. It. Over.

“ _Why?”_ He asked once more, pleading, exploring. 

The rogue just stared up at him, or maybe he didn’t, he too wore a mask so it was hard to tell.

“Aren’t you a Mandalorian? Why don’t you just kill me like you want to and get it over already? Or does Moff Gideon want me alive that badly?”

Corin blinked, taken aback. “You’re not my target, there’s no reason to kill you. Why are you making this difficult?”

He caught another knife as the man tried yet again to stab him, how many weapons was this guy packing? But that meant he’d let go of the asset, and Corin saw his chance.

He grabbed both arms and rolled backwards, before the rogue had a chance to regain his footing, Corin’s feet were digging into his chest and he was throwing him a good five feet down the hallway at least before finishing his roll and springing to his feet.

The rogue stormtrooper wasn’t the only one who could dance afterall. 

Corin quickly made his way to the bundle of blankets that had been placed so carefully beside where he had the rogue pinned, before the other man could even get up. 

He scooped it up into his arms with a fierce feeling of triumph and froze.

Nestled gently into the blankets, peering out at him with two large black eyes that seemed to widen when they noticed him, was a small… green… child.

And Corin felt his heart sink to the bottom of his chest, because of course the asset he had to give back to _Moff Gideon_ was an innocent child that was being protected by a talented but seemingly genuine stormtrooper. This entire thing reeked of bad luck. 

Because when he had taken the oath, had been sworn in to the creed, they had never mentioned things like this. And Corin, he didn’t know what to do.

  
  


Dynn wanted to scream. He had been so close, _they were in the hanger_ , but the Mandalorian had been there, waiting for him. And just when he thought he could make it, could get past with no one figuring it out right away, he’d attacked him from behind, throwing him off balance and taking advantage of his clumsy mistake with the pistol to almost break his arm, which became a recurring thing in their fights. 

He had tried to catch himself, clumsily, as he landed only to remember his injured wrist as renewed pain shot quickly up the entirety of his arm. 

The Mandalorian didn’t even bother shooting him, probably didn’t want to waste a charge on a stormtrooper if he could help it and Dynn was starting to see red. 

He couldn’t outrun him, trying to outfight him left him feeling humiliated and frustrated, and he was starting to run out of knives. But he had to protect the kid.

It was startlingly clear that no one else would. 

He stood up, running towards the Mandalorian before he could reach the child, but it was hopeless. He had already picked him up, carelessly, like he didn’t even care that what he was holding was a living thing. 

Because of _course_ he didn’t. He was a bounty hunter working for Moff Gideon, the fact that Dynn was even still alive was likely because the man didn’t want to bother killing someone when he hadn’t been paid for it. Isn’t that what he’d said earlier, when he’d had him pinned?

Dynn felt his heart clench as he was forced to watch him uncover the child’s face, _he couldn’t let him hurt the child_.

He tackled him.

Dynn must have taken him by surprise because not only was he able to knock them back down, he was able to slip his arms-ignoring the pain-around the bundle of blankets as well. He turned his body enough to break what was left of the mandolarian’s grip and landed hard on top of him.

There was a groan, but Dynn just kept rolling, hoping the adrenaline would give him an advantage. But the second he was able to stand and start running once more, he was there behind him. Not giving even an inch. 

“Wait-“ the Mandalorian called after him, but Dynn just took advantage of his distraction to turn sharply on his heel and duck into a lesser used hallway to the left. 

“Stop _following me_ ” he growled, uselessly. 

The child cooed against his chest, a goofy, joyous sound. He probably thought they were playing some kind of game, it was for the best, he didn’t want the child to know just how deep a ditch he had really dug for them. 

Dynn didn’t even have a plan, there was no way he’d make it into a ship and fly off before he’d catch up. In fact, he wasn’t going to make it anywhere. If anything he was just buying time, seconds really, a moment longer together with the giggling child in his arms where he can pretend they had escaped, that they still had a chance. 

That Moff Gideon hadn’t already won.

His eyes stung under the helmet, and he pulled the child closer. He’d never gotten the chance to name him. 

Now he never would. 

He kept running, his lungs burning, he couldn’t even feel his legs anymore. He felt the hand as it grabbed his shoulder and twisted before the thought even formed. He ducked around him and his eyes caught the edge of a loose grate. 

It led to the garbage, which was dangerous on its own, but it would give him time to think, and Dynn doubted they’d be followed. So he took advantage of the few seconds he had bought and blasted it open, running to jump in, he was halfway there before he felt a tight grip on his collar, holding him dangling halfway through the shoot.

“Are you Crazy???!!” The man practically yelled, pulling him back and pinning him to the ground once more. “Are you so desperate to win this that you’d risk both of your lives?!”

_Win this?_

“If Moff Gideon gets him, whatever he does will be worse than death. To _both_ of us” he growled, the child was beneath him, so he had to use both his arms to keep their combined weight from crushing him. A clever solution, and Dynn felt nothing but dread as even his last ditch attempt failed him. 

The Mandalorian didn’t say anything else, but the weight on his back seemed to lessen. Not enough that he could run, but enough that he could breathe easily once more.

“I have a ship” 

Dynn rolled his eyes, “good for you”

“No, I-“ he sighed, “I mean…”

Dynn turned his head back, trying to get a look at him. But it was useless, even if he could, the helmet hid whatever emotions he might have been displaying. 

There was another sigh, deeper, “I can help you”

Dynn’s heart beat loudly in his chest, a hope welling that he quickly squashed. “I won’t make it easier for you to drag us back to your boss” 

“I don’t like Gideon any more than you do”

“You’re working for him” Dynn countered, this conversation was going in a drastically different direction than he’d been expecting. 

“So were you!” The Mandalorian defended, Dynn almost chuckled. 

There was a soft coo and the child slowly crawled out from under Dynn, reaching up towards the Mandalorian with a happy little smile.

“Stop.” Dynn said, scared, “don’t go _towards_ him, he’s the enemy!” He tried to reach for him, but the movement of his wrist had him biting back a scream. _Useless._

The Mandalorian for his part, released Dynn entirely and backed away from the child, but the little womprat was not to be deterred and the Mandalorian soon had a small green accessory attached tightly to his leg. 

Dynn growled and grabbed him quickly, gently prying him from the _paid bounty hunter_ only to deal with an ear-splitting cry that had Dynn releasing him back to his death grip on the other man. 

“Uhhh…” the Mandalorian was frozen stiff, but he also didn’t make a move to grab the kid and leave so Dynn made a choice. He could only hope he wasn’t about to regret it.

“You have a ship?” 

  
  


Corin was frozen stiff, he hadn’t expected the child to latch itself onto him like this. Didn’t he know he was just chasing them down? That he was the enemy? His caretaker had certainly understood. 

He looked over at the rogue stormtrooper, he was leaning heavy against the wall near the garbage shoot and Corin felt his anxiety spike. He would jump in again would he? Corin really didn’t want to risk fighting a dianoga while protecting a baby and apparently suicidal stormtrooper. 

He could, probably, but he really didn’t want to.

“I do, but it’s back at the main post” 

The child was still cooing at him, and had made a grabby motion with his tiny hands, so Corin leaned down to pick him up, cradling him against his armor.

The rogue flinched at the action, injures hand twitching as if to grab a blaster. 

“Then it’s useless to us. Moff Gideon would never allow us back on post, we can just steal a tie fighter from here.”

“That’ll only get you to the next planet, _if you’re lucky_ .” Corin argued, “then what? My ship can get us anywhere, it’s made to, and it’s undetectable to both the republic _and_ the empire.” 

“The only reason we even made it in _here_ is because this is where they send the useless troops.” He stood up, clearly glaring at the child through his helmet, as if to say _traitor_. 

“What about those on the mainpost? They all like you?”

The rogue started walking, Corin followed, “this entire planet is where they send undesirables.”

“You… _You_ are an undesirable?”

Corin was confused, he’d wondered what a man like this was doing way out here, but had concluded that it was either a temporary thing, or had to do with Moff Gideon’s own presence. But an undesirable? That didn’t click at all. 

“I’m rebellious” 

“That… okay that makes more sense” 

“What’s your plan?” The rogue turned around, helmet tilted in curiosity.

Corin blinked, plan?

“Uh,” he didn’t have one. To be fair, he usually didn’t need one, hunt Target was really as far as he ever got. “I’m more of an on the fly kind of guy?”

There was a sigh, and Corin found himself fighting a blush no one could see. 

“You’ll have to present us to Moff Gideon, act like you caught us and didn’t switch sides. Once you have the ship started, I’ll meet you there. If not…” there was a weight to his pause, Corin didn’t like it, “can you promise me you’ll get the child away from here?”

“I can”

The man nodded, then started walking again, “the main exit is this way.” 

The walk there was long, the hallway seeming to stretch out in a way it didn’t when the two of them had been running desperately through it. Corin found himself almost not wanting it to end, who knew what was going to happen next?

The unconscious sentry was still there, a reminder that Corin really didn’t need. “You didn’t kill them” it wasn’t a question, not really.

He answered anyways. “They’re my brothers. Even though we aren’t clones anymore, we still consider ourselves to be family, it’s the only way we can get through some of the bullshit.” 

“You’re really loyal, for someone that’s considered a rebellious problem child”

The rogue took his helmet off and Corin could feel his breath steal away. He was just as beautiful as he remembered the first time, and Corin’s eyes devoured every inch of flushed tan skin, the dark stubble and soft curly hair messed by its time hidden in the helmet. The man’s lips twisted into a smirk before he turned and met Corin’s eyes through the helmet.

They were brown. 

How nice.

“That is _why_ I’m considered a rebellious problem child. Gideon doesn’t like his pawns to have a conscious” 

He held out the helmet, and the child released his grip on Corin, crawling out of his arms and curling into the small heated space. 

Suddenly a lot of things were making sense, and Corin felt frustration build as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. Moff Gideon thought he could play him for a fool. And he’d been _right_ , what kind of useless Mandalorian-

“I was surprised though” the rogue interrupted his thoughts before they could spiral further, “why help us? Don’t you Mandalorians have a code or something?”

Corin nodded, “part of that code is to protect, not just to fight” he swallowed, “it is what they did for me” 

The man looked at him strangely, “an entire culture soft on kids” 

“Not how I would have described it” but he wasn’t wrong, they never would have taken in someone as useless as Corin if they hadn’t had a soft spot for orphans in war zones. He could pay that kindness forward today, finally prove it wasn’t a waste. 

“Time to go, do you have cuffs?”

“Yes?” Corin answered, not understanding the relevance. He was a bounty hunter, of course he did.

“Here,” the man held out his arms, “try not to make them too tight, I think you broke my wrist.”

Corin cringed, “I don’t even know your name, and you’re trusting me like this?”

His expression went dark, a clear desperation settling over his features that he tried to school away with pure determination. Corin felt something twist in his chest at the sight of it, clearly he wasn’t this man’s first choice. 

Then again, when was he ever?

“Just hurry up, the last thing we need is someone catching us getting along and being suspicious.”

Corin nodded, gently clicking the cuffs over the other man’s wrists, careful to keep them loose. 

The cold outside was bracing and Corin caught himself smiling, he really did love the snow, it was one of the reasons he’d agreed to take the job, but Greef Karga hadn’t mentioned it was imperial. He knew better than that. 

He helped the rogue into the scooter, carefully as his hands were bound, before easing the helmet into his arms. Then he settled behind him, reaching forward to grab the handlebars and pressing his chest to the man’s back. He felt him stiffen, likely uncomfortable with the reminder that his enemy was so close behind him. 

  
  


The drive back was quicker than the two day trek Dynn and the child had needed to get away. And every second they got closer, Dynn could feel his heartbeat quicker. It didn’t help that the Mandalorian’s chest was solid and firm against his back. 

The child was cuddled deeply into the blankets, trying to avoid the sharp bite of wind as they cut through the storm. Dynn hated the snow, his base of choice had actually been on tattooine, which was probably one of the reasons he’d ended up here. 

It was also harder to defect when there was nowhere to defect to, no civilians to side with, no reason to defy orders. 

The base stood tall, ominous in a way it had never felt before. It used to be a comforting annoyance to come home, sure it was awful being stuck here, but he was among his fellow troopers and he was home. The large metal walls and over the top laser cannons were there to protect him and everyone else, now… 

The Mandalorian got off the scooter, reaching out a hand to grab onto Dynn’s elbow and help him off as well. 

He grabbed the child out from his arms and there was nothing he could do to stop him, even if all of this was a clever way to get him to behave so he could finish the job, there was nothing Dynn would be able to do about it. He had to trust him.

“My name is Dynn.” He whispered, and he could tell the Mandalorian was looking back at him. “Dynn Jaren, I don’t know how to spell it. But that’s what my mother named me” 

The Mandalorian looked uncomfortable, too bad, “what happened-?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dynn interrupted, using his cuffed hands and ignoring the sharp pain in his wrist to grab him by his collar and pull him towards him. An empty threat, but Dynn was desperate. “Can I trust you?”

The Mandalorian nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him, he shook him again, “I need to know, that no matter what happens to me, no matter what Moff Gideon offers you, or threatens to do, you will save this child and keep him _safe_ ”

“I will” he gently pried Dynn’s hands away, careful with his wrist, “I promise”

“Can you swear it on your creed?” 

The Mandalorian froze, clearly not expecting the request. But before Dynn could speak again, or demand anything else, he nodded. 

“I swear, Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it” 

Dynn trusted him. And a weight lifted from his shoulders, he did what he could. Now, he just had to die with honor. 

The walked through the doors and Dynn suddenly found himself wishing he had his helmet back on, he could feel too many stares.

“Excellent work Mando” it was Lieutenant Kulc, his commanding officer whom he’d been working directly with for over a year now, ever since he’d been stationed on this planet. “We can take the traitor from here” 

His eyes were cold, but Dynn felt no grief at his loss, this man would have killed the child if he had been ordered to. He was not worth serving. 

The Mandalorian didn’t let go of his arm though, Dynn had to rip it away himself. He’d blow their cover if he wasn’t careful. 

What was he thinking? 

Dynn was about to walk away with Lieutenant Kulc when a familiar voice spoke, sending chills up his spine and freezing him in place. 

“No need Lieutenant, I’d like a word with DI-917 myself” said Moff Gideon as he entered the room, “we have some unfinished business” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have discovered I enjoy a good fight scene.


	4. Chapter 4

Unfinished business? Corin wondered, does he mean the kid? But the kid was right here, why would he need Dynn? 

“Thank you, Mando” Gideon said as he turned to Corin. Corin made a face under the helmet. 

“Excellent work, your payment.” 

It was beskar, he was giving him the beskar, just like that. Corin reaches for it, hesitating only a moment at the sight of Dynn’s dark glare, but refusing the payment would only be suspicious. And there was no reason to leave something so precious in the hands of an imperial, so he took it and with his free hand loaded it into his satchel. 

“If you’ll bring the asset?” He asked, turning his back on them and leading them out of the room, “DI-917, follow”

Corin risked a glance, Dynn was gritting his teeth, hatred in his eyes and Corin _hated_ the empire. But he had every reason to.

Why did someone who had dedicated his life to it, look like he’d murder the man he had worked for just days before?

“I will admit DI-917, it did take me a moment to recognize you” 

Corin walked silently. If he was forgotten about, all the better. The room they were led into was enormous and full of armed stormtroopers and other personnel. In the center was a nervous scientist standing next to a large machine that Corin definitely didn’t want to leave the kid anywhere near. 

Dynn growled “I’m not one of your troops anymore, don’t call me that” 

Moff Gideon just chuckled, “You know, your supervisors do talk the world of you, and normally I wouldn’t care about someone of your status even slightly.”

Corin felt himself holding back a growl, but Dynn just rolled his eyes. Apparently he was more familiar with this brand of crazy than Corin was.

“So kill me, you never held back before.”

“That’s just it,” Gideon said, turning around and smiling, “I don’t have to. We’ve got ways of making stormtroopers obedient, you remember that right?”

Dynn went still, “Why waste the resources?” 

He was trying to sound unconcerned, but Corin could hear the slight shiver in his deep voice. He almost sounded terrified. Corin just didn’t know of what.

“There’s no greater waste of a resource than a well trained trooper not knowing his place.” Gideon said, his eyes dark with a smug satisfaction. “And examples must be made you see”

Dynn lunged, his features twisted in fury, but before he could reach Gideon he was being held back by two other stormtroopers.

“You know where to take him,” he simply waved them away, ignoring as Dynn struggled to reach him, throwing out swears and curses and numerous insults that would have gotten anyone else killed in Moff Gideon’s presence. 

Corin felt a chill run down his back.

“I apologize for that Mando, we have history you see. He was a part of my elite guard, an ex-shock trooper. I didn’t recognize him until he stole the asset from under our noses.”

He exaggerated a grimace as he turned towards Corin, “they all look the same with that armor, you know.

“Now, for the child, you can just give him over to us and be on your way.”

Corin took a deep breath, this was part of the plan. It had to be. He couldn’t fight a room full of imperials, they had to wait until they weren’t expecting anything. 

Dynn would escape, Corin would get the kid, they’d meet at the ship, and everything would be fine. He could feel it, they had luck on their side. 

So he, gently, handed over the child to the nervous looking scientist. The man smiled, taking just as much care and walking away with him. 

The kid looked terrified, cooing softly and reaching back towards him, but Corin held himself back. There was nothing he could do for the child right now but wait. 

And hope.

  
  


Dynn stopped fighting the second Moff Gideon was no longer there to make him see red, and the two troopers that were holding him loosened their grip in response. Dynn was careful to ignore the pain of his wrist, he didn’t want to display any weaknesses. 

“D-man you _messed_ up” JK-218 said conversationally, like Dynn hadn’t just committed high treason and was being dragged into a cell on Moff Gideon’s ship so he could be taken back to the one place he still had nightmares about. 

“He’s going to hurt a _kid_ Jake,” he whispered, a useless plea. 

“Uh yeah, and _now_ he’s gonna hurt _you_ ” JK-218 said, “so what did we learn here?” 

“Man you’re lucky he didn’t just kill you, he’s killed like, eight people since landing” ST-665 joined the conversation, “and they didn’t even commit mutiny, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“Why is that okay with everyone?” Dynn growled. He had lost eight of his brothers and hadn’t even known it. Were they killed because of him? Or was it just Moff Gideon’s pride again. Like last time. 

“Them or us,” JK-218 said, that’s what they teach us in training remember?”

“Doesn’t matter if he does or not, he’s gonna relearn it real quick where he’s going” Another guard, a third trooper that Dynn hadn’t even noticed, said with disinterest. 

Dynn swallowed. 

“Actually, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Ugh, I know you’re a badass okay, but there’s three of us and you’re _literally in cuffs._ So chill." 

Dynn just smiled and held up his- decidedly uncuffed- hands. 

“Oh” 

The fight was short, and quiet. Dynn had made sure it wasn’t noticed and even took the time to drag the unconscious bodies into one of the storage closets. This one was full of cleaning supplies, so he was confident no one would accidentally find them. If there was something that stormtroopers were actually good at, it was getting out of cleaning duty. 

He stole JK-218’s helmet, who had hangar access on his ID, and snuck into where the Mandalorian’s ship was. The Mandalorian and the kid were nowhere to be seen, the ship empty and quiet. 

It hadn’t been long, he had escaped more easily than he’d expected. Honestly he had thought Gideon was finally going to kill him, but it seemed his grudge held strong. And a noble death would be too good for someone like Dynn. 

He wondered, briefly, if the Mandalorian had nearly as much trouble as he did with his own people, if they were just as willing to help as to stab him in the back if it would save their own skins. 

It was a very lonely feeling, but Dynn simply shook his head and carried on, the Mandalorian had to be nearby with the child. 

He just had to find them. 

  
  


Corin wasn’t panicking. He was coming up with a new plan, one that involved somehow getting back to the child _and_ separating him from what seemed like an entire base of imperials. Because he had to, he promised he would, and even the thought of letting Dynn- a Stormtrooper that defied everything his life had been for one innocent child- down was painful to ponder. 

So he’d get the kid back, and meet Dynn at the ship. 

Because he’d definitely be there and _not_ wherever Moff Gideon had sent him. 

And Corin really needed to just _stop_ thinking right about now. 

He was outside the room and a little ways down the hall. There were multiple entrances, he knew that. What he didn’t know was which one they’d take the kid out of. 

Or who Dynn would be okay with him shooting, because that was definitely _also_ on his mind as he remembered how careful the other man had been about that. 

So for now he was just waiting, the heat signatures he could read with his helmet the only way he even knew they were still in there. 

It was another half hour before the scientist was walking away with the child, going out a backdoor with only three guards while the rest stayed with Gideon. Okay. Cool. 

Corin took a deep breath, turned his helmet back to normal and started down the hallway. He was walking with a confident step and a proud posture, two things the Mandalorians had always told him were important to learn. 

No one second guessed confidence. 

He was most certainly lost, but the scientist had come to a stop in the room in front of him, and that was what mattered. 

Dynn’s kid was in there after all. 

He was about to break into the room when he quite literally bumped into another stormtrooper. Acting on instinct he twisted on his heel and judo threw him over his shoulder, the stormtrooper‘s weight was strangely familiar though, and Corin almost missed what was hissed at him. 

“It’s _me_ you kriffing idiot” and Corin had a moment of panic, helping the stormtrooper back up to his feet and apologizing profusely. 

It was a few seconds of that before Dynn was looking around, his helmet turning from left to right as he searched. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

“Huh-?” Corin didn’t register the question, still distracted by the fact that he’d accidentally attacked the one person here he’d consider an ally. He probably hated him, there was no way he’d trust him after that. 

“ _The kid”_

Oh right. 

“He’s in there” he said, pointing into the room where the scientist and his guards were. “But there’s-“ 

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Dynn was walking in through the door and Corin had to scramble to catch up. 

The scientist looked up in confusion, seeing the two of them enter, “Mando? Did something happen?” 

Corin didn’t answer, trusting whatever Dynn’s plan was. At least, he _hoped_ he had a plan. 

“What did you do to him?” Dynn's voice was a low growl, fury etched into every syllable as he strode closer to the machine the child was placed inside, completely ignoring the guards in his protective anger. 

Okay, maybe Dynn didn't have a plan. 

“I- what?” The scientist stuttered, clearly confused by the _very_ angry stormtrooper. “Wait, you’re-“ 

But he didn’t get to finish his revelation before Dynn ripped him away from the machine and gathered the child to him, touch gentle despite his prior furiosity. 

Corin quietly thanked his luck that there was only the three guards, any more and he might have had trouble dispatching them in time to protect Dynn and the kid. As it was the first one was easy enough to take out with a solid punch to the soft part of the helmet, twisting it enough to obscure his vision before Corin kneed him in the gut and left him gasping for breath. 

The second one toppled backwards, hitting the floor hard on his back as Corin lassoed a wire around his ankles and pulled. 

Luckily he was able to take them both out quick enough that the final guard in the room had barely even registered what happened before Corin was halfway across the room with his arms around his neck. 

The trooper dropped limply to the floor and Corin finally allowed himself to look over at the child, to see with his own eyes whether or not he was okay. 

Not that he didn’t trust Dynn! He did! If Dynn said the child was safe, there was no doubt that it was true. At least, not to Corin. 

But seeing the little bundle of green innocence swaddled safely in Dynn’s arms left a tender feeling in his chest that was hard to ignore. Corin shook his head, so far so easy. They needed to get out before the other shoe decided to drop.   
  


Dynn tore his gaze away from the child once he was certain that no one had harmed him, finally acknowledging the rest of the room. 

There was the terrified scientist, curled into himself, hands held above his head as he softly pleaded not to be hurt, and three half conscious troopers that were groaning in the ground and making no move to get up. 

He turned to the Mandalorian, he was just standing there, T-visor turned in the direction of Dynn and the child. 

“Not bad” Dynn said, wondering if it was a common practice among Mandalorians to go out of their way not to kill. Unless he did it because...? No. 

He didn’t stay to mull it over though, they needed to leave quickly. Dynn turned on his heel, heading right back out the way they came, only this time, the child was safely back in his arms. 

Exactly where he would have stayed if it wasn’t for that over-inflated egotistical _sithspit_ Moff Gideon. Dynn didn’t know what he had planned for the kid, but he’d seen first hand the kind of ethics Gideon had, and he didn’t want him anywhere near any child, never again. 

He looked back before opening the door, the Mandalorian nodded, pistol out and ready. Dynn took a deep breath and opened the door, he peeked his head out first, just to double check, before opening the door all the way and waiving the Mandalorian through. 

Dynn followed closely behind, his heart hammering in his chest, louder every time they turned a new corner and there was no one there waiting for them. He felt like a tap dancer on stage with an anvil hanging above him, any step could be the last. They could be ambushed at literally any point. 

The lights went out, surrounding the trio in complete darkness and Dynn stopped, pulling the Mandalorian with him quickly into a small alcove, and listened as every door quickly slammed shut and locked. 

Kriff. It wouldn’t be long now, until Gideon sent his men to look for them. It was protocol, shut down the base, lights off and using the night filter on your helmets, search systematically room by room until the intruders are found or forced out of hiding. 

He explained so to the Mandalorian, who if he was as worried as Dynn, was well adept at hiding it. That probably had something to do with the helmet. Though, Dynn had always been one of the more expressive soldiers, able to communicate whatever feelings he’d had rather successfully even through the identical armor that they all had. And he was ten times worse without. 

“Take off your helmet” 

The Mandalorian hadn’t spoken in so long that his voice had taken Dynn by complete surprise. 

“What?” 

“You said it has an automatic night vision feature” the Mandalorian continued, and if Dynn hadn’t known better he’d almost say he sounded excited. 

“You have a plan.” 

The Mandalorian nodded, “I have a plan” 

The plan was simple. Dynn would draw attention from the group of troopers searching in this sector, lead them down the hallway to where the Mandalorian was set up, and just when they thought they had him cornered, the Mandalorian would turn the lights on. 

And between the two of them, even a whole platoon of troopers was easy pickings blinded. Injury and all. 

Dynn didn’t let himself think until the last of his brothers was lying unconscious on the ground before him, the adrenaline from the fight keeping him moving as they ran, the little one tucked securely into the arms of his companion. 

He smiled wryly, if he’d known finally defecting would get him a Mandalorian partner, he wouldn’t have stayed so long on this frozen rock. 

It wasn’t long before they were able to make it to the hangar, the brunt of the search team already being taken out had made it simple to slip past the smaller groups, or to catch them by surprise. 

Dynn ran right to the door, punching in the override codes he remembered from the last briefing and hoping they hadn’t gotten the chance to change them just yet. 

Anticipation built as the light switched to green, blinking lazily on the keypad and promising the trio access. It wasn’t long before Dynn heard the door start to slide open, and the second it was high enough to slip through, he did. No hesitation. 

“Well done DI-917” said Moff Gideon the three platoons and his current personal guards surrounding him in the open space of the hangar. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, put down the weapon. It would be quite the wasted resource if we really did have to kill you” 

Dynn scowled and let the blaster drop, next time he was waiting for the Mandalorian. 

  
  
  


Corin had a bad feeling, their luck had held out impressively so far and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. So when he saw Dynn type in the code, and the hangar door start to slowly open? He had wanted to grab him, pull him back against the opposite wall and wait, just a minute, before running inside. 

But he hadn’t even managed to reach out before the damned rogue was sliding in under a barely open door and Corin had to resist the urge to shout. Instead he merely waited for the door to finish opening before entering, holding gently onto the child in his arms. 

Only to duck quickly out of sight once he heard Moff Gideon’s voice. Blast. No. Of _course_ bad luck had to strike now! 

Corin needed to think quickly, there had to be something he could do, some way to get them out of here. He remembered Dynn’s face when Gideon had threatened him earlier. The fear hidden under the anger and aggression. 

He wanted to see him smile again... at least once. He wanted to see the man from that day in the snow, singing softly to the child as he cradled him in his arms. 

Corin backed away from the door slowly, trying not to make a sound and hoping that Gideon was too distracted by Dynn to think about the others he’d been chasing down. Maybe he could find a back entrance, try and get into one of the ships and use it against him. At least, he had to try _something_. 

But Corin had barely made it to the next hallway when he found himself once more surrounded by troopers. He tensed, shifting into a fighting stance and ready to see how many he could take out before falling when one held up a hand slowly. 

The rest of the group lowered their weapons and Corin allowed himself a moment of confusion before the one that stepped forward started speaking. 

“That’s the reason DI-917 went rogue?” She asked. And Corin just nodded, eyes flicking around the other Storm Troopers and seeing his own discomfort mirrored in them. Clearly he wasn’t the only one wondering what was going on. 

Another one stepped forward, he was larger than the rest, “and you? What‘s your goal here?“ 

It was clear this Stormtrooper was trying to intimidate him, his voice was pitched low, almost a growl, and Corin almost wanted to take a step back. But that went against every instinct ever trained into him as a foundling, so instead, Corin tilted his head up and squared his own shoulders. This man may be large, but he was no Dynn. 

“We’re leaving.” 

He didn’t want to explain himself to a stranger, honestly he didn’t think he could properly explain it to himself. _I feel an absolute need to be with him, to see what he does next, to follow where he leads and I’d lay my life down for the child in my arms right now._

That wasn’t a reason why, not really. He didn’t have one of those. 

The large Strormtrooper nodded his head, the bucket he called a helmet tilting with the movement. “The three of you?” 

Corin nodded, reaching one of his hands slowly to his hip where his blaster was. 

The Stormtrooper reached for the child, using his bulk to try and muscle him out of Corin’s arms. It was sudden, but Corin had expected it and responded quickly. 

He pulled his blaster free, the large Stormtrooper moved just enough to avoid the bulk of the blast and reached for the barrel of the weapon. Corin didn’t let him get it, flipping it over the back of his hand and ducking below the Stormtrooper’s reach. 

He was quick to kick out and felt the satisfaction of legs buckling underneath the pressure of his boot. Corin smiled underneath his own helmet, tucked the child closer to his chest and sprang back onto his feet. He was ready to take on the next one, to take all of them, hoping the aging beskar would protect both him and the child enough that they could get back to Dynn more or less un-injured. 

At least he was, until the Stormtrooper he had taken down started laughing, the rest of the group seemed to relax and the woman helped him back up as Corin stared, wary. 

“If it is you and him.... yeah, this just might work” the Stormtrooper said, taking his helmet off so that Corin could see the face of the man underneath. “I am Paz, this is Raga, and we heard Dynn needs our help”

  
  
  


“Where’s the asset?” Moff Gideon asked once Dynn had been properly restrained. It was useless, Dynn would never give him anything and he knew it. 

The question was mostly just a formality, so Gideon could have an excuse for the torture he loved so much. Dynn let his head move with the momentum of the strike. Over, and over, he thought about how nice it would to be wearing a helmet made of Beskar. See how Gideon’s delicate fists felt against something like that. 

Then again, he doubted the Mandalorian would let himself get captured so easily. Didn’t they have a code of honor, death first or something? 

Dynn grunted as he felt a sharp kick to his abdomen, bending him over and allowing Gideon to pull his face up by the fringe of his hair. 

He really didn’t know much about Mandalorians did he? At least, nothing outside of the ghost stories and fairytales that other troopers passed around at night or when they were bored and doing nothing important. 

The pain stopped, likely Gideon had ran out of energy. He often did, that’s why he was at his best bossing others around. Like he was now, “Tell me where the asset is.” 

Dynn glared up at him, “you’d have to kill me.” 

But Gideon only shook his head, a vicious smile tugging at the edge of his lips, “oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? Dying a martyr, rebelled to save an innocent life and murdered for it? No. You’re a tool, and tools can be repurposed. Especially talented ones, hmm?” 

Dynn grit his teeth. Flashes from his past played behind his eyes, his training, his conditioning, his _reconditioning._

Moff Gideon wasn’t a fan of mercy afterall. Wasn’t that what landed him here in the first place? It wasn’t proper after all, for one of his personal guards to go around _not_ killing people. 

Except that isn’t what he’s doing now, _now_ he’s protecting someone. And he’d rather die than let Moff Gideon get his hands on either of them, on _any of them_. 

He was going to just attack, lean into his anger and instincts and fight, hands bound and all, until Gideon had no choice but to kill him. Hopefully it would be enough to buy the Mandalorian time, if anyone could protect the kid it was him. 

It had to be. 

Dynn didn’t have a lot of choices left. 

That is, until he heard blaster fire. There was movement and noise as a battle suddenly erupted around him and Dynn moved quickly with the distraction. Ducking away from Moff Gideon and trying to lose himself in the struggle around him. 

Blast, if only he had his helmet, it would be difficult to pick him out of the crowd then, even with his hands tied. 

Did the Mandalorian really attack an entire flight of Shock-Troopers alone? Dynn didn’t know whether to feel grateful or furious, where was the child? 

Dynn heard a coo, soft. He could have imagined it, but he turned towards it anyways. One of the shock-troopers noticed him then and Dynn had to take the time to eliminate him, stealing a blaster and moving swiftly onto the next one. 

The fight was more difficult than any he’d ever had, whether that was due to the restraints, the broken wrist, or the massive number of enemies, he couldn’t quite tell, likely all of it combined, and he was becoming exhausted. At least until he heard a familiar voice, 

”Hold still.” Small, feminine hands were suddenly grabbing him by the restraints, familiarity the only thing keeping Dynn from pulling away. 

“Raga,” He said, voice soft. If anyone was a true sister to him, it was her, “What are you doing?” 

He couldn’t see her face beneath the helmet, but if he had credits of his own, he’d wager that she was smiling. “Following your example, how many times has the commander told us all to do just that?” 

“All?” Dynn asked, eyes now sweeping the hangar. There was fighting, Stormtrooper against Shock-troopers, and Dynn felt his heart stop as familiar silhouettes fell to blaster and blade. 

“The whole platoon is here,” Raga said as she finally freed his hands, “go make the universe a better place D-man.” 

He nodded, tears threatening, “you know I hate that nickname.” 

“I know.” 

And just like that, she threw herself back into the fight, twisting and dancing and easily taking down two more shock-troopers. It reminded Dynn that he wasn’t the only wasted talent on this planet, not the only trouble maker they couldn’t trust somewhere more important. 

Not the only rebel. 

There was an unfamiliar ship, a razor crest, and Dynn fought towards it. It had to be the Mandalorian’s, maybe if he could make it there, the child would be waiting for him. He continued to fight. 

At least, until he heard it again, a gentle coo, and Dynn turned his head. He saw them then, the Mandalorian and the child, knew the moment their eyes met and the Mandalorian recognized him. 

Then he felt the blaster tear through his armor, and the entire world seemed to erupt into white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! Work has been piling up quite a bit, so I won’t be as regular as I used to be. I’m sorry!


	5. Chapter 5

Corin felt the world crash around him. The hangar, which had been previously so loud with the familiar sounds of battle, faded into nothing. The sound muffled as if he was underwater, and his limbs seemed to be weighted down as well. 

All he could see was Dynn Jaren fall, the snow white of his armor exploding into shards and splashed with red. 

His own chest felt cold. 

A soft cry awoke him to the world once more, the child reaching out for its caregiver as he collapsed, and Corin was moving. 

He may not have been able to catch Dynn before he fell, but he lifted him from the floor. It was difficult, his hands already full with the child, but he cradled him to his chest, relying on his beskar to protect them as he turned his attention from the battle and entirely to his rogue stormtrooper. 

The child balanced in Dynn’s lap as Corin lifted them, muscles straining but determination keeping him moving forward. 

“You promised-“

There was a soft pained sound, Dynn was clearly weak, and only barely conscious. He needed Bacta and quick. 

He could only pray the supply he had would be enough. 

“I promised I would protect the child” Corin replied, desperately trying to keep Dynn talking, keep him conscious. “I never promised to leave you behind.” 

He couldn’t. And Corin wasn’t sure, even if he had promised that in particular, if he would have been able to keep to it. No, not with how Dynn felt in his arms, warm, alive. Not with the memory of his smile as he sang gently to the child surrounded by snow, unaware that they were being watched. 

A poor Mandalorian indeed, to be so selfish as to deny someone an honorable death only because Corin could not bare to part with them. 

But Dynn was silent now, his chest rising slowly and haggard. They were halfway there, but Moff Gideon's men blocked the way and Corin could carry Dynn and the child or he could fight. He could not do both, he wasn’t good enough for that. 

Then one of the Shock troopers blocking their way went down, and then another. He looked to his right and Paz was there, helping to cut through to get them out. He caught Corin’s eye and nodded. 

They moved forward. Corin risked a glance down at Dynn and the kid and he saw the child reaching its tiny hands toward the ruined armor, blood seeping from the wound underneath, and his heart clenched. The poor kid. He should never have had to see his caretaker in such a state.

If Corin was a better Mandalorian they wouldn’t be in this situation, fighting against time as Dynn bled out in his arms. 

They made it to the ship, Corin gently setting them down in the makeshift cot tucked away in the cargo hold and moving quickly to the cockpit to take off. The quicker they were off this planet the quicker he could help Dynn. All in all it had been less than two minutes since he was shot, and Corin was counting the seconds it would take to bleed out from a chest wound in his head. 

There was a scream of rage from outside, barely audible through the durasteel hull of his ship. But he didn’t stop, and then the ship was moving. He allowed himself a moment to worry they would be trapped inside the hangar, but the doors remained wide open. 

Maybe the old rumor that stormtroopers had come from Mandalorian stock was true after all, Corin thought, mentally thanking Dynn’s platoon before they were shooting up into the atmosphere.   
Corin engages auto pilot quickly and proficiently, trusting it to get them to the nearest new republic planet without him. Then he jumped down into the hangar grabbing his medical supplies on the way and rushed to his stormtrooper’s side, bacta ready in hand and praying that Dynn was as tough as Corin believed he was. 

Except when Corin looked up, Dynn wasn’t lying half dead or worse on his makeshift cot with the child crying softly above him as Corin had expected. 

No.

He was awake, and sitting up.

  
Dynn woke slowly, to a feeling of warmth in his chest and a soft, exhausted sounding coo. He blinked, forcing his eyes open and his consciousness into wakefulness. They were in the middle of a battle, he couldn’t afford to sleep. 

Sleeping got his brothers and sisters killed. 

It took a minute for Dynn to realize that he wasn’t in the middle of a fight, nor was he waking up in his quarters or anywhere else familiar to him.

He was in a ship. It was perfectly organized, well taken care of, and Dynn had never seen it before.   
Another soft coo brought a flood of memories back and had Dynn searching frantically for the child before he found him curled up and sleeping in his lap. Dynn sighed, his fear flying away at the sight and lifted his arms to hold the child properly, only to realize, quite belatedly, that his armor was in pieces, and he was covered in blood.

He’d been shot. Felt it tear through his chest and he could even remember the sickening feeling of his blood escaping, of his life slowly draining away. He also remembered the Mandalorian’s arms around him, holding him tight as if he alone could fight back death and Dynn had believed, for a moment, that he could. 

That he was safe in those arms, and he remembers letting himself slip away into sleep. 

But… hadn’t he made the Mandalorian promise to leave him behind and save the child? Hadn’t he?   
“You’re awake” Dynn looked up and saw the Mandalorian walking towards him. 

He simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak, not just yet. And the silence stretched awkwardly between them, neither knowing just what to say.

The child snored softly and Dynn found himself itching to get clean, to clean them both, his tiny arms filthy in a way no child should ever have to be. 

“Do you have towels?” He asked gently, his voice sounding unfamiliar to himself. 

“Of- of course” the Mandalorian quickly turned away to get them and Dynn took the opportunity to strip off his ruined armor, only leaving the black pants of his undersuit so that the area where he’d been wounded was clearly showing. 

It was smooth, fully healed with only a scar, and Dynn wondered how long he’d been out that the bacta has healed him so thoroughly. 

Soon enough the Mandalorian had returned, placing a bowl of warm water next to them and lifting a wet towel. Dynn took it from him, using it to wash off the blood and the Mandalorian turned away, using another towel to clean up the child as he slept and Dynn let the image sink into his mind. 

It was soft in a way he didn’t expect from someone so fearsome, a Mandalorian with a soft spot for kids. Except, he had said they were all like that, that he’d been taken in as a child among them. 

“Why didn’t you leave me behind and get the kid somewhere safe like you promised?” 

The Mandalorian paused, settling the child into a small nest of blankets he’d made in one of the open compartments before looking back at him. 

“I didn’t promise that, I promised to get the kid somewhere safe no matter what happened.”

Dynn frowned, that wasn’t what he’d meant and he was sure the Mandalorian knew it. “You put him in danger.”

The Mandalorian’s shoulders seemed to stiffen before he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. “He was already in danger. He’s safer now, with you here to protect him.” 

Well, Dynn couldn’t really argue that, and it wasn’t like he wanted to die when something like freedom was so close he could taste it. So instead he leaned back, taking a deep breath and allowing it to pull at his previously injured chest. 

“How long was I out?” He asked, tucking the previous conversation away for another time. 

“Less than two minutes” was not the answer he’d been expecting however, and he found himself looking at the Mandalorian in surprise. 

“What kind of bacta-?”

The Mandalorian shook his head, “I never got the chance to use any.” 

He paused for a moment, seeming to lose himself in thought. “Stormtroopers don’t have regenerative abilities that I don’t know about right?” 

Dynn just shook his head, suspicion building in his mind as he remembered the warmth in his chest as he awoke, the exhaustion of the child as he collapsed against Dynn’s chest, right where the wound had been. But that was impossible. 

People couldn’t just heal wounds right? Unless…  
“We’ve heard of fairytales and legends of people who could use magic to bend the galaxy to their will. If this child is one of them, then we need to keep him away from Moff Gideon. And not just for his own sake, but for everyone’s.” 

The Mandalorian simply nodded, seeming to take his words at face value, no hint of disbelief showing out through his helmet. Then again, Dynn was sure that preparing to treat the wounds of someone who was only moments away from death and finding them sitting up and healthy was likely enough to steal away anyone’s disbelief. 

Corin blinked. The Jetti. That’s what Dynn had mentioned, right? The people that the Mandalorians had fought a war against and lost, the stories that foundlings told each other about at night, when it was spookiest and they could scare each other sleepless.   
The child was one of them?

Corin shook his head. No, he was a child. The Jetti were fully trained warriors, not a race. If only he’d paid better attention to those stories though, perhaps they’d help him now. 

Dynn sighed, clearly exhausted from the day and Corin could hardly blame him. But when he reached over to grab the water basin to rinse the towel Corin saw him flinch and remembered the wrist he’d broken. 

Guilt flooded him, and he reached again for the bacta patches. “Stay still, we need to set that arm.”

Dynn just rolled his eyes, “It’ll heal.”

Corin suddenly understood why the Armorer would smack the back of the foundlings heads after a fight when they were insistent on ignoring broken bones and deep cuts with the insistence that they were simply too tough to be taken down by something not entirely debilitating. 

But instead he just shook his head and gently grabbed his wrist, softly poking to see where the swelling was and to make sure the bone was properly in place. Corin used a delicate touch, not wanting to cause any more pain than he already had, and thanking the goddess that Dynn didn’t hate him as he deserved. 

He’d hunted Dynn and the child down like prey, hurt him, dragged him back to his enemy and broke his trust by twisting his promise enough that he could do what he wanted with it. 

Corin splinted the wrist, “It’ll heal better this way, otherwise I worry you wouldn’t be able to do all those fancy flips of yours.” 

Dynn snorted, a smile dancing on his lips as he gazed intently at his wrist. “I only did one flip.”

His eyes were dark as he watched Corin wrap his wrist, and Corin allowed his fingers to linger there. Feeling the delicate skin of Dynn’s wrist and the comforting himself with the flutter of Dynn’s pulse against his thumb. 

“It was a very cool flip, it left an impression.” Corin’s voice was soft, unwilling to break the weight of the moment, but equally unwilling to let their light conversation die and risk falling into awkward silence. 

It didn’t take long to finish caring for the wind he’d caused, but he’d need to keep an eye on it nonetheless. But, Corin thought to himself as he forced his hands to release the delicate wrist in their grasp, it wouldn’t exactly be a chore to care for his wayward stormtrooper. 

Not if he could be given such a simple excuse to touch. 

Dynn for his own part stared at his wrist, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. Something wry, or cynical, undercut with softness and longing, and Corin wondered if he was thinking about his freedom, or about the child. But then Dynn’s gaze caught his own and Corin was drowning in a wave of something hot and unfamiliar that had him stepping back quickly, movement automatic and almost mechanical as he put everything away.

“You should sleep, we have a long way to go before we’re out of imperial space” he said, grateful that his helmet could hide his growing blush. 

He climbed back up to the cockpit, flying would calm him down. He wouldn’t punish Dynn with his presence or unwanted desires. 

So he took a deep breath and focused on the stars as they zoomed past him. 

Dynn watched as the Mandalorian walked away, climbing back into the cockpit and telling him to get some rest. He was right, Dynn was exhausted and if he was going to help protect the kid, or try and figure out how to fly the thing while the Mandalorian himself slept, he’d need to be well rested. 

But his grip lingered on his wrist, recalling the delicate touch that the Mandalorian had used to care for it, for him. It was something he’d never experienced before, not as a stormtrooper at least. 

They were expendable, easily replaced, even the best of them. So if they needed healing, it was clinical, quick, unconcerned with any pain that might be felt as long as they be able to function properly afterwards. 

Dynn had hated getting injured, avoided it at all costs because he couldn’t stand to be stripped bare and laid out before strangers that didn’t care for him or about him as they clinically pieced him back together and assessed him as if he was an object. 

So he’d made sure he was good enough to stay out of the medbay. To stay away from those eyes, from that feeling of being torn open and forcibly exposed.

This was the first time he’d been laid bare and treated with caution, a delicate touch that had him aching more in his chest than where he had been injured. So he traced over the bandage on his wrist, and smiled. 

So far freedom had been a wonderful thing.

KRIFF. Freedom. He was free.

He’d spent his entire life knowing that freedom didn’t exist for him, that he’d live and die for the empire and the only thing that mattered was how useful he was before it happened. 

He’d despised it, fought instead for his brothers’ and sisters’ sakes, threw himself into battle to protect them, thinking that if he was going to die a slave, he’d live for them.

Except now, he wasn’t a slave anymore. 

Because of this Mandalorian that had been hired to hunt him down but had saved his life instead. Someone that cared about Dynn enough to turn against Moff Gideon and risk his life to get Dynn and his child to safety. Someone who tended his wounds with a delicate touch and a concerned warning to take care of himself. 

Dynn’s chest felt tight, and at first he thought the wound might be acting up, but it was in the wrong place. Too centered. 

So he pushed his thoughts away, his wants, his hopes, his excitement. He could feel it all later. For now, he needed sleep. 

He laid down, on his back, chest still bared, and closed his eyes. He held his bandaged wrist gently, stroking his fingers over it and allowing himself to drift off. 

  
Corin didn’t want to just stop at the next planet, too easy to track them there, but they weren’t going to make it to new republic space with the amount of fuel they had. So he compromised. 

It was dangerous and pushing his luck, but it had been good so far and Corin was willing to risk it so Corin skipped the first two planets before pulling into the atmosphere of the third.

This planet was well out of imperial space, of which the snow planet had been on the outskirts of, and generally well populated. As such, it wouldn’t be hard for them to blend into the background. A battered Mandalorian walking around with a young father and his son shouldn’t pull too many questions. Even if his people were rarer than they once were. 

If so, he could always pull it off as a protection detail or something. 

People hired mandalorians for that kind of stuff, though, it was usually people who could afford the beskar. Then again, his last job had given him quite the payout when it came to that. 

Corin wanted to get it to the armorer as soon as possible, for the foundlings. He knew better than to think he’d deserve to wear that much fresh beskar himself when he hadn’t even really done the job he was supposed to do in the first place. But he also didn’t want to bring Moff Gideon and his men down on the covert, so he’d have to wait until they were sure they’d lost him. Which meant traveling for a couple of weeks outside of imp space. 

And this was the first stop. 

Corin landed the ship easily into the docking bay, making the necessary precautions and giving the proper codes to make his stop perfectly legal. At least, in so much as a bounty hunter by trade could.   
His heart was pounding for some reason, almost like he was nervous, but he didn’t know why. So he let himself relax for a moment alone in the cockpit before taking a deep breath and climbing as quietly as he could back down into the bay. 

Dynn was still asleep, he face soft and relaxed, and Corin was struck by the urge to let him rest. He’d been through so much, surely he could use the extra time to heal. But he also didn’t seem like the kind of person to react well to being left out of plans, and landing on a new planet to stop for a bit while on the run from Moff Gideon seemed like the kind of thing he’d want to know. 

Corin reached over to gently touch Dynn’s shoulder, when he noticed that the child had somehow nestled his way into the sleeping man’s arms, curled up and content. He must have found a way to sneak out of the cargo hold they’d put him in when he fell asleep earlier. 

The entire sight sent an ache of longing through Corin, and he pulled back. It was … soft, and affectionate and something that Corin definitely did not deserve to be witness to so instead he turned away and went to open the bay doors. 

But he must have been too loud about it because Dynn’s voice called out to his back, gentled by sleep. 

“Mando? Where-“ Corin turned around to see Dynn was moving to sit up, the child still curled in his arms. “Sorry, how long was I asleep?” 

This man was far too handsome to be sitting there shirtless and half asleep in Corin’s ship, holding a child gently in his arms. It was too much, and if Corin hadn’t been protected by his helmet he’d be terrified of whatever pained expression he would be showing. But he was, so he fought to keep his voice under control as he answered Dynn’s question.

“Almost twelve hours. We’ve landed on Bogano, we won’t be here long. We need fuel to get any further though.” 

Dynn just nodded, then stood as if to follow Corin outside. “I can-“ he started to say before apparently realizing his state of undress. 

He seemed to flush before sitting back down and allowing the child to crawl back onto him, grumpy in its half-conscious state. 

“I can… get you clothes?” Corin offered, pointedly ignoring the thought of Dynn wearing something, anything Corin gave him. It led down a dangerous road in the Mandalorian’s mind. 

Dynn just smiled, awkwardly, “If you wouldn’t mind, while you’re gone I can work on getting rid of this.”   
He gestured at the broken snowtrooper armor, and Corin nodded. Dynn deserved better armor than that.   
But first, he needed clothes, and they needed fuel. So Corin left the two of them their privacy and left the ship, mind dangerously preoccupied by the sight he was leaving behind him. 

The price of fuel on this planet was unreasonable, and Corin could feel it in his pocket, but he’d never been good at negotiating and they were in a hurry. So once he was finished with that, Corin headed to the market. 

What kind of clothes did Dynn wear? Had he worn normal clothes before or did troopers spend all their time in armor? Surely they had dress uniforms for ceremonies right? But that wasn’t comfortable, or useful for casual wear. 

Corin tried picturing the kind of clothing he could see Dynn wearing, but his mind would constantly betray him, remembering instead the sight of him shirtless and lounging in Corin’s makeshift cot. 

Pushing the thought from his mind, Corin simply bought what he could afford with his limited credits, leaving enough to buy enough food for himself and his current guests as they traveled. 

It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was durable and should be comfortable enough, one of the shirts a deep magenta that Corin thought would suit his rogue stormtrooper quite well.

Except, he wasn’t a stormtrooper any more was he? Not really. He was just Dynn. Corin’s friend? Companion? Current job? 

Was he really even Corin’s anything? Or was Corin once again giving himself too much importance, trying to make something of nothing. 

But Dynn needed him, couldn’t make it off the planet without him, likely couldn’t outrun Moff Gideon for long on his own, since he was a runaway stormtrooper and Corin doubted that anyone would look kindly upon him. Either because of his past as a stormtrooper, or his current situation as a traitor.   
Except, if anyone could it was Dynn. 

And other than his ship, what use really was Corin? He’d brought Dynn and the kid into the arms of Moff Gideon, had almost gotten Dynn killed when Corin had distracted him during that last battle, hadn’t even been the one who healed him. 

Not to mention, a Mandalorian was so much more conspicuous than a handsome father with his adopted child, what if Corin was holding them back instead of helping them? What if he’s the only thing stopping them from just picking a planet and fading into the populace? 

Corin made his way back to the ship, thoughts tangling in his head and dragging his mood down as he continued to question his place, his worth, but it was questions he’d fought with his entire life, and he had gotten far to used to them by now. 

He just needed something to do, a task to distract him from his two companions, and he’d be fine once more, could prove his worth, earn his keep as a Mandalorian. 

Prove that they hadn’t made a mistake by taking him in, a child of their enemy left behind in the war. That their patience caring for him and teaching him wasn’t a waste of their time, no matter how much the armorer and the rest of the covert reassured him. 

And he found exactly that when his instincts took over entirely and he was dodging the pulse of a vibroblade that had been aimed uselessly at his side. It was quick work to grab the offending wrist, twisting it back and towards him. There was a loud snap and the Arcona that had attacked him let out a cry. Corin noted, with vague interest, that her eyes were gold.   
An addict, which meant more than likely she thought he had something on him worth trading for salt, or dactyl. 

Corin felt something twist in his chest, she was clearly desperate, most muggers don’t go after Mandalorians afterall. So he slipped a couple of credits into her pocket, with luck she won’t know they were from him and won’t think to try and attack another Mandalorian hoping to be rewarded.   
Then again, he had dislocated her elbow, so maybe not. 

He released the Arcona’s wrist and watched, solemnly, as she ran back into the shadows. As he watched there was a soft clapping from behind him, and Corin stiffened. 

“A Mandalorian is truly something to be feared, isn’t it?” Corin turned around to face the voice, every muscle tensed and ready to be attacked by something far more dangerous than some salt addicted Arcona. 

“Can I help you?” He growled, an attempt at intimidation. 

The human just smiled, “of course you can. If you want a job after all.” 

Corin thought about Dynn and the child back in the ship, then he thought about the emptiness of his coin purse, the need for money when on the run like this. And he nodded.

  
Dynn had always hated being left behind, it wasn’t something he was used to when there was a mission. He was always the first to volunteer. Even for the tedious ones that everyone else tried to get out of, he would jump up, eager to move, to actually do something. And it had led to his increased misery on that rock of ice he’d been stationed on. The installation’s mission basically amounting to sitting around doing nothing and trying to stay out of too much trouble when the troopers inevitably got bored enough to risk their jobs doing stupid stunts. 

So naturally, clothes or not, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to find himself waiting in a ship as his friendly Mandalorian went out doing who knows what on some random planet. He’d tried to busy himself by exploring the ship, trying to figure out what went where, the organization of the weapons, the empty compartment that was now being used as a crib, the cockpit and its gears, not that Dynn really knew how to use them, and eventually finding the on-board incinerator where he shoved his ruined armor. 

He was going to feel bare, going outside without it to protect him, but it was really nothing more than a giant bullseye for anyone with a problem with the empire. 

Which was pretty much everyone. 

In the end he was spending his time playing with the child, who loved the attention and often found climbing over Dynn to be especially exciting. His tiny hands and feet somehow managing to dig into every soft muscle or weak point Dynn had until he gave up and just started tossing the kid up and down as he squealed in delight. 

He had also been talking to him, asking questions he knew the kid wouldn’t be able to answer, reacting as if he had, and complaining about how boring it was on this ship, without his brothers or sisters to bother him at work. 

He didn’t know when he started to talk almost exclusively about the Mandalorian, and the way he had been so kind to someone like Dynn, who had never been treated as anything more than a particularly useful tool by anyone that wasn’t also a trooper. 

“Who do you think taught him first aid? It certainly wasn’t any of the medics that I know.” Dynn caught the kid and lifted him into another gentle toss, his wrist twitching slightly as he used it. “He was far too gentle.”

The door opened, causing Dynn to jump slightly and catch the child awkwardly, his wrist screaming out at him as he twisted it despite the splint. The child just giggled and wandered over to the Mandalorian as he entered. 

“I didn’t think you were the type to use an injured wrist” the Mandalorian sighed, walking in to the bay properly and grabbing Dynn’s wrist once again. A shiver went through Dynn that he pointedly ignored as the Mandalorian once again gently checked over his wrist. 

“I was bored,” he said, and the Mandalorian let go abruptly, likely rolling his eyes behind that helmet, “and the kid loved it.”

The Mandalorian didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, and he handed over a bundle of clothing and some food. “Here, now you can get changed into something and be able to eat. I should be back tonight… is there a way I can ask you to go a bit gentle on your arm?” 

Dynn nodded slowly, digesting the statement, “later tonight?” 

“I have a job, and we need the money. We have enough fuel to get a few planets further away, but we need credits once we land and it would be better if we didn’t have to worry about it so much.” 

A job. The thought hadn’t even crossed Dynn’s mind, the only job he’d ever had after all was the one he’d just run away from as fast as he possibly could. 

They would have to make money to keep going, was Corin planning on taking care of that on his own? 

“I can help.” He’d go mad if he was left behind for an entire day. 

“It’s not difficult and you almost died less than a full day ago.” His helmet turned towards him, “and we can’t exactly afford a babysitter right now.”

Dynn grumbled, but didn’t stop him from leaving. Waiting until a full minute had passed before quickly dressing in some of his new clothes, surprised at how well they fit, and shoving a ration bar in his mouth.   
He grabbed the kid and fed him as well, being careful to make sure he was eating at a proper pace, and hoping the food wasn’t something that would upset his biology. 

Once he was done he went to open the bay door, the child following quickly after him. He really couldn’t keep sitting behind in there, and in his defense, the Mandalorian had only refused his help. He hadn’t told them to stay on the ship. 

So the ex-Stormtrooper and his kid decided to go out and stretch their legs. 

The first stop, Dynn determined, was to see if he could supplement whatever the Mandalorian was looking to earn. So he’d try and find a job, ideally one that didn’t mind him babysitting, and one that could get him back before night fall. 

Shouldn’t be too hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo!!!! Thanks so much to Arboreal!! I wouldn’t be able to do this anywhere near as well without their help!!


	6. Chapter 6

Corin allowed himself an eye-roll behind his helmet as his newest client described the job. It was a simple thing, less a job that required any particular skill set and more one that relied solely on his ability to intimidate. 

It was the armor that was really earning the money and normally Corin wouldn’t bother with something pitiful like this, but it was relatively safe, and it paid well enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about getting work on the next planet. They’d be able to just keep moving, putting distance between the kid and Moff Gideon. 

Between Dynn and whatever lesson Gideon was so desperate to teach him. 

“So, Mando,” the client interrupted Corin’s thoughts, “I’ll be visiting a particular restaurant tonight that’s been giving me trouble about our monthly collection.”

“Collection?” Corin asked, already knowing the answer. But men like this like to brag, show off how powerful they thought they were. 

“Well, we do offer a certain type of protection in this city, and the smaller neighborhoods owe a certain amount of their proceeds.” His voice grated on Corin’s ears, and Corin couldn’t help but thank the fact that he didn’t have to hide his disgust. The armor did it for him. “This particular restaurant is a smaller, family friendly place that needs to learn they aren’t exempt from our rules just because they want to be.”

“I’m not keen on beating people up because they can’t pay dues to a mob boss,” Corin said, crossing his arms and scowling. 

“Of course,” the client placated, “you’re only there as insurance. In case they hired someone themselves to fight back.” 

“Right,” Corin said, already regretting the job. But between a faceless restaurant owner that likely wasn’t as innocent as Corin was imagining and the thought of Dynn or the child being put in danger, or hungry, the stranger would lose every time. 

So he nodded his head and followed the client outside into the street, meeting up with a group of men that looked intimidating enough. They were probably his usual grunts, Corin was likely only hired due to opportunity. And luck. 

Whether it was his or the client’s was yet to be seen. 

“Huh, I ain’t never seen no Mandalorian before,” one of the grunts said after he was introduced. “So, do you take off the helmet when you’re being intimate, or is it like a kin-“

The man didn’t get to finish his sentence before Corin was holding his vibroblade deadly close to his vocal cords. Another word and who knows what would happen to them. 

Good Mandalorians didn’t allow their creed to be insulted so easily in front of them. 

“Easy, Mando,” the client lifted his hands, clearly startled by the sudden violence. “No one meant any harm, the boys just like to bond by being… well, boys.”

Corin dropped his arm, tucking the vibroblade back into his sleeve. “I’m not here to bond.”

“Of course,” Corin let the client take the lead once more, the group of them practically strutting down the street like they owned the place. 

Then again, they certainly seemed to think they did. Small-time mobsters tended to have over inflated egos, fed on the fear of people weaker than them that they could pretend they had control over. 

But Corin didn’t care about the politics behind this, he cared about finishing the job, receiving the money, and getting back to Dynn and the kid. 

So he kept walking, and looking intimidating. That’s what he was being paid for after all.

Dynn was deep into the back alleys and less populated streets of the city before he started asking around about a job. An aging Kurtzen with a thick Bakuran accent had told Dynn about a small restaurant at the end of the block that had most of its workers leave recently. 

So Dynn walked towards it slowly, allowing the little womprat trailing behind him to catch up. It would be good for him to stretch his legs, especially since he hadn’t been able to much back on post. 

The restaurant itself was a pleasant place, quaint, and with a welcoming feel so Dynn didn’t hesitate to walk up to an older woman behind the main counter that he assumed was the owner and introduce himself.

“I don’t know where you came from,” she said, wiping down a table, “but the one thing we could use more than anything is workers.” 

“Even ones with troublemaking children?” Dynn didn’t want to get his hopes up, if the kid couldn’t stay in his sight he wouldn’t be able to work here. 

“You must be joking. We love kids here, don’t we Paul?” She shouted the last part into the restaurant, her voice impressive for her smaller frame. 

“You’re joking right?!” Came an answering call from the kitchen, “I adore children! I’ll fry one up and serve it on a platter for breakfast I love children so much.”

Dynn blinked, stepping closer to the child, before the owner laughed and slapped him gently in the shoulder. 

“Don’t listen to him, Sweetheart,” she said, picking up another rag, “he’s got the looks of a bantha and the brains of an imp. But I’m the one who married him so who’s the real fool here, huh?” 

Dynn just nodded, uncomfortable and untrusting of his own voice. Didn’t want to give himself away as one of the imps she was talking about. 

“Your kid is welcome to play with the others, we’ve got a bit of a play room for them,” the owner offered, leading Dynn and the child deeper into the restaurant and into a small room full of soft toys and distractingly empty of children.

“Well,” she said when Dynn looked over at her, “it’ll get full again once our customers are back. Our other workers used to … well. I suppose that doesn’t quite matter as much anymore, does it?” 

Dynn just nodded, wondering why such a nice place seemed to be struggling as much as it was. But he didn’t ask. If he was meant to know, he would have been briefed. 

So instead he led the kid inside and told him to stay and play, and not get into any more trouble, before following the owner back out and learning the ropes of his new job. 

He waited on tables, cleaned up after customers, and made sure not to over use his wrist. The Mandalorian had asked him not to after all, and he often found himself lost in thought, thumb gently pressing against the injury. 

It wasn’t long until the wave of customers the owner had promised came and went and Dynn found himself rushing around the restaurant, barely keeping up with the demand between the three of them and losing himself to the work. 

“How handsome, Linda!” said a woman the owner had introduced as a regular and a friend, “where on this side of the nebula did you find him?” 

The owner just cackled and finished pouring her drink, “You wouldn’t believe it, but he walked right in the front door. The most adorable child following right on his heels.”

“Force willing, you think he’ll stay?” 

Dynn wasn’t trying to listen in, but if there was one thing a stormtrooper learned, it was how to look busy while eavesdropping. 

But the owner just sighed, and whispered something he couldn’t hear. Then she went back to work herself and the only sounds were the hustle and bustle of a well run restaurant. 

It was settling into early evening when the crowd died down and Dynn was allowed to eat himself, sitting the kid across from him and offering a bowl of bone broth. The kid seemed to enjoy it enough and had actually been able to play with others his age throughout the day, so Dynn didn’t have to worry about him making any additional trouble. Especially since he could see the child’s long green ears dipping and had to catch him before he fell asleep face first in his own soup. 

“You did good work today,” The owner said, giving him a slice of the pie of the day. “How long are you in town?” 

Dynn paused at that, smiling at the kid sleeping softly in his arms. “I’m not sure to be honest, it’s up to my companion. We’re only here as long as his job is.” 

The owner hid her disappointment well, gently patting him on the shoulder, “You’re welcome here as long as you want. You put in the work of two men and you’ll be paid that way.” 

Dynn just nodded, the kindness causing his throat to stick too much to answer. The owner smiled at the affirmative and walked away, letting him finish his meal in peace. 

It was nice, knowing that he had helped, that there was someone grateful for his presence, instead of the hate that people like him had always gotten from the populace. What could it have been like if he hadn’t been stolen away as a child? 

If he could have been a normal person. 

Once he was done eating he picked up the kid and tucked him into a pile of blankets in the back room. He needed to help clean up before they could leave for the day. Maybe he could talk to the Mandalorian tonight when he got back to the ship? Convince him to stay a couple of days, just to supplement their income, maybe he wouldn’t be too against it. 

It had to take longer than a couple of days to track them this far out. He’d worked with the empire his entire life and he’s never seen them be quite that competent. 

With that in mind, and something resembling optimism settling around him, he made his way back to the main part of the restaurant. 

Only to find it trashed and a smarmy looking man threatening the owner with a badly held blaster and a crew of dundering brutes behind him.

Oh, and his Mandalorian.

“Dynn?!” Corin grit his teeth, confusion and frustration warring in his mind as he caught sight of his ex-Stormtrooper casually walking in on his job, wearing a well-used apron and looking for all the world like he worked there. 

“A friend of yours, Mando?” The client asked, clearly trying to sound disinterested, but Corin could see the glimmer in his eyes that screamed for some kind of drama. 

But Dynn, apparently, had different ideas about what was an important topic of discussion. 

“Are you the reason the other workers quit?” he asked, his voice low and threatening. “Because if so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Corin blinked and took a step forward, Dynn could easily take this crew, they were inexperienced and Corin had been on the other side of a fight with the ex-Stormtrooper. 

But Dynn was hurt. Corin hurt him and he would rather not stand back and let him get hurt again. 

So he stepped closer and gently touched Dynn’s arm. “We aren’t here to fight, Dynn. Why aren’t you back on the ship?” Corin kept his voice low enough that the others wouldn’t hear, he didn’t want this to spiral any more than it already was. 

Dynn’s eyes slid past him, lingering on the Client and his frustrating inability to handle a blaster. “He looks ready for a fight to me.”

“He wouldn’t know a fight if it crawled out of his money pouch,” Corin stated, trying to calm the situation. 

Dynn just took a deep breath, irritation etched into the line of his shoulders. “Was this the job you took?” he hissed, and Corin felt a flood of shame roll down his back before he could stop it. 

“We need money,” He whispered back, grip tightening only slightly as he felt Dynn try to pull away, “this was a quick and easy intimidation job before you got involved.”

But instead of backing down Dynn grinned, a sharp thing that had Corin letting go of him and taking a step back. “Then intimidate me, Mando.”

Corin felt himself shoved aside as the grunts he’d accompanied here pushed past him and drew close to Dynn. No doubt trying to intimidate him, like the bucket-heads they were. 

The client just chuckled and turned his entire attention on Dynn, causing a flare of anger to flicker in the back of his mind. Who was this guy to look at Dynn like that? Like he was weak, someone that he could just dismiss or frighten away. 

He moved to get between them and Dynn again, but stilled when the client’s hand landed sharp on his shoulder, “We can handle a dishwasher, Mando. Let the boys show off.”

Corin just watched as Dynn took out the first grunt easily, not even using the injured wrist, and that alone stopped Corin from stepping forward once more.   
Instead he just muttered under his breath, a subtle warning to the client, “are you sure?”

Apparently he wasn’t because once Dynn had worked his way through three more of them- he had taken a vibroblade from his pocket and Corin almost winced in sympathy- the client was pale-faced and pushing him towards his wayward stormtrooper. 

“St-stop him!” The client sniveled, and Corin felt his skin crawl, he hated working for guys like this. He was tempted to just cancel the contract so he could grab Dynn and the kid and get off this planet as quickly as he could. 

But the excited look in Dynn’s eyes stopped him, he’d never seen someone enjoy a fight so much. At least he was until one of the grunts noticed his weak point and grabbed his injured wrist, causing Dynn to flinch before punching him in the face, flipping his vibroblade out of his newly reinjured hand and catching it in his free one. He slashed it down and the grunt was forced to let go as the laser dug into flesh. 

This was enough to spur Corin into action, stepping past his fallen ‘comrades’ and grabbing Dynn by his uninjured arm. He pulled it behind him before Dynn could react and flipped him onto his shoulder, Dynn kicking indignantly at his chest. 

“What are you-?!” Dynn growled, and Corin just dragged him to the back where he’d seen him come from at the beginning of the mess. 

“I asked you to be gentle, what are you going to do if it’s damaged even more now? Do you want it to heal wrong?” Corin said, setting Dynn down and grabbing his wrist once more. The splint would need to be replaced, and the bandages. 

Dynn was stone still, likely angry with Corin about coddling him, but Corin wasn’t going to give him any ground. He knew he’d feel guilty until Dynn’s wrist was healed properly so the least the man could do was let him take care of it, especially since he clearly wasn’t caring for it himself. 

“That’s what you’re focusing on right now?” Dynn asked, confusion clouding the hiss of his voice. “You took a job with a mob boss.”

Oh right. Corin had almost forgotten why they were here in the first place, arguing from other sides of a fight that wasn’t theirs. 

“I was getting paid to look intimidating, it was easy and we’d have enough money to jump at least three more planets.”

Dynn just glared back at him, as if the logic of it only made it worse. “You don’t vet your clients?”

“When we met I was working for Moff Gideon.”

Dynn just blinked, a soft look of surprise overtaking the frustrated scowl that had seemed almost permanently etched into his features just moments ago. 

“Oh. Right.” Then he smiled and, if Corin ever admitted to looking for it, a small blush crept up his neck. “What do we do now then?” 

Corin sighed, finally letting go of Dynn entirely. “You really like the owners? They aren’t, secretly evil?”

“Do you always tell yourself things like that?”

Corin himself was blushing now, and he gave a jerky nod. “Sometimes, when the job is like this, but mostly I just remind myself what I need the money for.” 

Dynn just stared, a question in his eyes that Corin was answering before he could be bothered to ask it out loud. 

“The covert. Before I met you and the child, I would give almost all of my earnings to the foundlings there.” 

“Of course you would,” Dynn smiled. Then a spark entered his eyes, as if an idea had just come to him. “You said there’s an entire covert of Mandalorians, and they take in children?”

Corin was caught off guard, there was an edge of excitement in Dynn’s voice. Corin just nodded. 

“What if we brought the kid there? Who better to protect him than an entire covert of people like you?” 

Corin flinched, “that’s not how- well technically- when a Mandalorian-“ he didn’t know what to say. The idea, the thought of it was leaving Corin dizzy. Did Dynn want Corin to adopt the child? Was that what he was asking? But the child was Dynn’s child, they’d be joint parents. 

What would the Armorer say to that? 

Probably ‘lucky Corin’ considering how absolutely perfect Dynn was. But he likely didn’t know what he was saying. He wouldn’t want it if he did. 

But maybe, if he agreed, if he brought Dynn home and introduced him to the others…

Well, he’d certainly fit in. 

“Okay. We’ll head to the covert. But-“ it hurt to say it, “-if Moff Gideon finds us, we have to leave.” 

Dynn smiled bright and excited, “of course.”

“But first I am going to go collect my paycheck. Stay here until we leave, I’ll meet you back at the ship.” And Corin walked away, leaving the too-bright sight of an excited Dynn behind. His client was still in the main body of the restaurant, surrounded by injured and groaning grunts as the older woman who owned the place cackled. 

“I knew he was something special! You hear that Paul!? Force guide us, I knew that man was something special!” 

Corin smiled under his helmet, but then he crouched and helped the client up from the ground. “Anywhere else we need to go?” 

He put a bit of gravel into his tone, but the client was already shaken by Dynn’s earlier display. And he seemed to accept that since Corin had been the one that walked back, he had been victorious. Corin wasn’t going to say anything to contradict him. 

“No. We-we’re done here. Your payment is back at the main-house. Let’s, uh- let’s go.” He helped collect the broken grunts and they made their way outside. The client muttered something about not needing this dumb restaurant’s money anyways. About how they could clearly afford their own protection. 

So Corin just kept quiet and nodded at the owner as he left. He had a paycheck to collect. 

  
Dynn was excited, he had a plan, a light at the end of the tunnel. The Mandalorians would help, would make it so the child didn’t have to live on the run like this. 

At the very least, a covert of Mandalorians was better protection than an ex-Stormtrooper. And the Mandalorian said he’d stay with them, if they had to leave. 

Which meant he was planning on staying. And Dynn hadn’t realized how much of a weight that was on his shoulders until he felt it lift. He opened the door to the back room where he’d left the child and saw him alone, sitting in his blankets and trying to fit a stuffed frog into his mouth. 

“Hey! Spit that out you little womprat.” He said, stalking forward and gently wrestling it away from him. Who knew what that would do to his stomach. 

Dynn played with the child for a bit, giving the Mandalorian time to collect his current client and leave before re-entering the main part of the restaurant again.

The owner was cleaning up the mess he’d made and smiled brightly once she saw him. “So that’s what a Mandalorian looks like underneath the armor then.” 

Dynn froze, she saw the Mandalorian without his armor? 

“I’ll tell you, what ever gig you and your partner have? That’s clever. Duping a young up-and-coming mobster like that? Where’s your armor?”

Dynn felt himself able to breathe again, a misunderstanding. “No, I’m not actually a Mandalorian. They don’t take off their helmets.”

“Well,” she smiled, “You could have fooled me. Either way, I appreciate what you two did getting that man off my back.”

She walked over behind the counter. “Here, your payment, for the work today and the wonderful fight. I understand you won’t be able to come back without messing up your scheme, but you’ll always be welcome anyways.” 

Dynn was caught off guard, she clearly thought that the day had gone significantly more to plan than what had truly happened, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the Mandalorian actually had planned something like this. A lose-lose situation that had him walking away with a paycheck, but without actually changing the balance of the fight in any way. 

It was possible. 

The owner just smiled, handing him the paycheck and patting him gently on the cheek before leaning towards the child and kissing him on the top of his head. 

Dynn left for the ship, wondering if this was his life now, a chaotic mess of coincidences that would hopefully work themselves out as he crossed the galaxy with the universe’s kindest Mandalorian and most troublesome child. 

He hoped it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post this 😅


	7. Chapter 7

  
It had been a couple of weeks since Dynn had told Corin that he wanted to go to the covert. They’d gotten back on the ship and been jumping from planet to planet, never staying long enough to be caught up in anything. And as intelligent and pragmatic as Dynn was, he’d asked Corin to teach him how to fly.

Corin had agreed, and was now standing directly behind Dynn, leaning over him and teaching him which controls were for what function, and how to steer. Dyn was a natural when it came to the more intuitive piloting, but was also fairly quick to pick up some of the more technical aspects as well. 

Which was good, because Corin didn’t know how long he would have lasted, leaning as close as he was, his chest practically touching Dynn’s back as he pointed out each switch and button. His entire chest felt like it had been set on fire, the blaze burning brighter each time Dynn shifted or accidentally sat back a little too far. 

Before long Dynn had told him not to worry about it anymore, that he had it handled more or less, and Corin had decided to go back into the cargo bay. There was only so long he trusted the child out of his or Dynn’s sight after all, whether he was sleeping or not. 

At first he busied himself cleaning his weapons, then his armor, taking the time to polish and buff the tarnished beskar. But it only served to remind Corin of where exactly they were trying to go. And of the large amount of beskar that he now had. 

He could only spend so long polishing his own armor before his gaze turned from the old towards the new. The beskar he’d earned with Dynn. The beskar he considered to be theirs far more than just his. The beskar that Dynn should really be wearing before he inevitably got himself into trouble again. 

Corin was never much of a craftsman, had always left such things to those whose talents leaned in that direction, and to the armorer. 

Yet here he found himself sitting, a chunk of the new beskar in his hand, and the various tools used to mold it with displayed before him. 

Dynn wanted to meet the other Mandalorians, and Corin was excited for the Covert to meet Dynn and the kid… but. 

Corin grimaced and started to work, the beskar slowly taking shape under his hands. At some point the child woke up and stumbled over towards him, cooing curiously at Corin‘s makeshift creation. 

“It’s for your Dad,” Corin explained, taking the opportunity to pull the kid into his lap and bounce his leg gently. It helped ease his own anxiety, and kept the child entertained well enough that he didn’t try to crawl away or get up to his own mischief.

“Do you think he’ll like it? It’s not as much as he deserves, but-“

Corin blushed, not quite willing to admit exactly why he was making it for Dynn, someone who definitely wasn’t a Mandalorian, and likely wouldn’t know the kind of meaning or intention behind it. Hopefully. 

Unless Stormtroopers had a similar tradition? They also wore armor, and there were theories that the original troopers had been trained by a Mandalorian. So it was entirely possible that Corin was about to completely embarrass himself.

But he really didn’t want Dynn to enter the covert without beskar. It was a sign of belonging afterall, and he definitely didn’t want Dynn to think he wasn’t welcome. 

Among other things. 

“Yeah, I hope so too,” He said instead. 

Dynn had discovered that he rather liked flying. It had nothing to do with the warm and reassuring weight he remembered pressed up against his upper back as the Mandalorian leaned over to instruct him, or the soft hum of the man’s voice, echoing gently from within his helmet as he explained complicated concepts in easy to understand ways. 

At least not entirely.

In fact, when Dynn looked out at the stars as they zoomed past, he found himself leaning back slightly into the warmth of the chair and thinking about freedom. 

It was a soft thought, tinged heavily with bittersweet emotions. He’d spent so long trapped, and now he was free. 

Even if none of his brothers or sisters were able to be here, free along with him. 

Dynn had never felt lighter, like a feather caught in a breeze, unmoored almost. But then he remembered the child, and the Mandalorian, and he found his anchor to keep going forward. 

He may have left his old family behind, but force will it, he could have a new one. He still had something to die for, and maybe if things went well enough, he could make it into something to live for. Something Dynn had never had. 

There was a loud crash from below, the entire ship jolted and Dynn steered it sharply to the left. What was that? Did he hit something? 

No. Blaster fire shot past and Dynn moved quickly to dodge once more. They were being attacked. 

Dynn barely blinked before the Mandalorian was back. He quickly released the controls to the Mandalorian and moved to the weapon system. It was old, clearly outdated, but so was everything the empire used. 

The attack didn’t last long after that, the Mandalorian far more experienced with piloting in complex and unexpected patterns and Dynn shooting with the kind of expert aim that had earned him a marksman ribbon many times over. 

But neither of them were perfect, and they had been taken completely off guard. The damage to the ship was extensive, and Dynn found himself unsure of how they were still flying, of how the ship had managed to stay together in more or less one piece. 

The Mandalorian turned back to him, gripping the controls with a tight fist, unwilling to let up as the ship jerked and shuddered around them. 

“We have to make an emergency stop. It won’t be pleasant,” he spoke, a kind of forced nonchalance covering the unease in his voice. Dynn wouldn’t call it panic, because then Dynn would panic as well, and that wouldn’t help anyone. 

So Dynn just nodded, “When is it ever?”

He jumped down from the cockpit, looking around for the child. He wasn’t wandering the hold, or sitting in a corner and chewing on an unimportant piece of equipment, so Dynn assumed the Mandalorian had shut him up in his compartment and went to open it.

The child was visibly frightened, large brown eyes actually wide enough to see the faint rim of white around them and long green ears pulled back. But he relaxed significantly once he saw Dynn and it almost broke his heart. 

The kid didn’t deserve to live like this, constantly afraid, running. And if everything worked out at this covert, maybe he wouldn’t have to. They could beg sanctuary, their own Mandalorian at least seemed optimistic about that, if not slightly hesitant about some other unknown factor he must have thought Dynn didn’t need to know. 

Dynn gathered the child to his chest, pulling him in tight and climbing back into the cockpit. It was safer than the cargo hold afterall. He strapped them into a chair, saw the Mandalorian take one last look back at them, and braced for impact. 

It was a frightening, hopeless kind of feeling to see the mass of a planet grow in front of you as you raced closer towards it, unable to stop or even slow down properly. 

There was nothing Dynn could do, a forced helplessness in the situation. So he just clung tighter to the child and trusted the Mandalorian as much as he could.

At least if it went wrong, they could die free. And Moff Gideon would be denied their capture, an added bonus that almost brought a morbid smirk to Dynn’s lips. 

The child was also clinging tightly, brow furrowed and eyes closed in intense concentration, with one little claw held out from Dynn’s embrace. It was certainly a strange position, but Dynn didn’t think much of it. 

He tried not to think much of anything as they hurled down into the atmosphere of the planet. The ship itself held together miraculously, not burning up on entry, and Dynn could feel his heart race faster as the ground became solid before them. 

It was over before he could dislodge the scream stuck in his throat. 

Corin woke in waves of sharp piercing pain and vague impressions. He fought to focus his mind until it all seemed to converge together into a safe, familiar voice. 

“You’re sure he’s going to be okay?” he heard the voice say. Corin smiled, Dynn was okay. That meant they’d survived the landing, and the bounty hunter he’d shot down hadn’t found a way to come back for them. 

An unfamiliar voice responded. It was feminine and curt, “I would be a lot more sure if you’d allow me to take off his helmet and check.”

Corin’s eyes flew open completely at that, his fingers digging into the wood of the table he’d been placed on as he tried to force himself to sit up. 

“No,” Dynn said, his voice stern, holding no room for disagreement. It soothed the panic Corin had been fighting. He wouldn’t lose his place among the ancestors today. Not with Dynn standing in the way. “I told you why we can’t do that.”

“And if he dies?” The woman’s voice asked again, sharp, almost an accusation.

“I’m not going to dishonor the man who saved our lives-“

The child. Kriff, Corin had almost forgotten, caught in the haze of his concussion and the ache of his wounds. 

This time, when he tried to rise, he succeeded with little more than a groan. “Where-?”

Before he could even finish the question however, a familiar weight climbed into his arms, the soft coo of the child gently informing him that he was still there, safe, with them. 

“See? He’s fine,” Dynn said, and Corin almost had to choke back a laugh. He looked up from the child settling in his lap just in time to see a soft, relieved smile stretch Dynn’s lips before it fell away and his eyes went dark again. 

The woman nodded. ”If he doesn’t get some more rest, he won’t be fine for long.” 

That was more aimed at Corin than Dynn, so he nodded in response. The movement set off a tidal wave of pain crashing from the back of his skull and cresting somewhere behind his eyes but he fought against it. It wouldn’t do to show too much weakness to a stranger after all.

She just scowled, and rolled her eyes before turning away from him completely. “You’re sure you two aren’t of the same stock?”

Dynn just shook his head, something wistful in his eyes before asking, “What do we owe you, Liita?”

“What do-?” The woman- Liita- almost looked taken aback, “nothing. I didn’t help you to prey on the less fortunate.”

“Then why did you?” Dynn asked as if he wasn’t the type to do the exact same thing, to help strangers in need, to trust people he really shouldn’t be trusting. Corin would have rolled his eyes if he didn’t know how much it would hurt.

The child just giggled in his lap, as if agreeing with Corin, before pulling one of his hands into his mouth and trying to chew on it. Corin quickly snatched it back, only to find that the child had already started trying to heal him like he had Dynn all those weeks ago. 

Corin paused, unsure of how to react before deciding to simply stop him, gently holding down the child’s hands until he got the picture. He looked exhausted, a level of tired that such a young child shouldn’t be able to reach, and yet, a small, frustrated crease formed between where his brows would be as he found himself denied. 

Liita just sighed, “I don’t know.” 

She left them alone in the room and Dynn eventually walked over towards the two of them, his movement sure, but unease clearly displayed on his face.

Until the child spit a raspberry at him and he broke into a soft smile. It was so beautiful, Corin still couldn’t get over how lucky he was to be allowed such a sight. He could imagine if he were more artistically inclined, that he could write a thousand poems about how the world lit up around him at times like this, or how the heavens seemed to open, spilling everything good about his life and gracing him with a kind of perfection he never knew could exist. 

Or maybe he was just a lot more concussed than he thought. 

“I can’t believe you managed to teach him that, with a bucket on your head.” Dynn tried for a scowl, but his good mood wouldn't allow it. The rest of his expression open and relieved if not entirely amused.

“It was Michael’s favorite thing to do as a foundling, I thought the child would appreciate it.” 

Dynn just hummed in agreement, gently poking the child's cheek as if in admonishment. The entire scene was achingly domestic and Corin almost wished he could forget the circumstances that led them here. 

“Are you hurt?” That was what he needed to know most, Dynn was good at hiding injuries, but he wouldn’t lie about them. 

Dynn stilled, caught off guard. His voice was slow, cautious, “No more than you are.”

So yes. But he wouldn’t let Corin do or say anything without pointing out Corin's own wounds, and that set something fierce ablaze in Corin’s chest. It was difficult to protect an ex-stormtrooper with no concept of risk management, even more so one that cared more about the wounds of others than his own. 

“How’s the ship?” Corin asked, changing the subject. He didn’t know where they were, or who else could be around them, and he needed to know if the ship was salvageable.

But instead of answering right away, Dynn just looked at him, something fond, or maybe exasperated in the crease of his eyes. Dynn gently took the child into his own arms, before pushing Corin back down onto the table. 

“Don’t worry about that now. Rest. We will be here when you wake again, and then you can ask your dumb questions.”

  
The Mandalorian was going to survive. Dynn had known that, he had, but it was still difficult to fight the fear he’d faced, staring at the other man motionless, lifeless on that table as Liita set about healing him from the crash. 

It had been a miracle they survived, she’d said. And she was right, it’s just that the miracle was what Dynn was holding in his arms right now.

A small, exhausted child that had helped land a ship that should have exploded long before impact. A ship that really shouldn’t be in as good a shape as it was, despite its current level of disrepair. 

A ship that Liita had said she was willing to help fix.

Apparently, the bounty hunter that had chased them had landed close enough that she had been able to scrap parts from it, more than enough for herself and then some.

And she needed something to do anyways. 

Dynn didn’t really know how to react, he wasn’t used to seeing such kindness from others, from strangers. He almost wondered how different it would have gone if she’d found him unconscious in his armor, instead of the civvies that the Mandalorian had bought for him some weeks ago. 

He tried not to think too much of it, and instead offered his help. She had merely laughed him off, telling him that he needed rest just as much as his companion, and that waking up first meant little when neither of them should have really been waking up at all, much less walking around, worried about others.

He had conceded her point and she had gone back inside to make a place for the three of them to sleep. Together. In one place, with the same shared blankets. 

Dynn refused to let himself linger on thoughts of curling up next to the Mandalorian, the child nestled between them, warm. Safe. Everything he hadn’t had working under the empire. 

Instead he’d let himself drift slowly away and fall into a deep sleep, dreams filled with strong hands and small childish cooing. It had been a while since he’d dreamed about family. 

  
Dynn was mostly healed by now, and he and the Mandalorian both had taken to helping out Liita with her chores and she had finally given up on trying to stop them. 

Three sets of hands had made it easier to fix the ship as well. The Mandalorian was apparently a very capable handyman in his own right, and once Liita figured that out she had no qualms about using him to his full potential and Dynn had often found himself delegated to caring for the child.

Dynn and the child in turn had taken to watching the other two as they worked, or playing around in the sand. Dynn liked desert planets after all; they were warm, he didn’t need to constantly be putting on special armor or layers everytime he went outside to do something, and the wildlife was more fascinating to watch than anything he’d ever seen in the snow. 

At least, he’d thought that way until he saw his kid swallow an entire frog whole and had spent the rest of the day trying to teach him how to eat soup instead. 

It was a cool night and the three of them were getting ready for sleep when the Mandalorian softly said, “You don’t have to share your blankets with me. I can sleep another time, or somewhere else if it’s a bother.”

Dynn stopped, something fragile balanced delicately in his chest as he thought about nights curled against the Mandalorian’s warmth as they both healed, tucked away in a pile of blankets graciously afforded them by their host. 

He was right, now that the two of them were awake more than they were asleep and helping out around Liita’s home, there wasn’t quite as much of an excuse to sleep, tucked away together in the corner. 

But Dynn was also loathe to let it go. 

“Do you want to?” he asked, praying for a certain answer but not expecting it. 

“No!” the Mandalorian stepped forward before remembering himself, “I er, didn’t mean it like that. I just.. if you were uncomfortable…”

Dynn blinked, “But I’m not?”

“Oh. Okay. Me neither?” The Mandalorian shifted before sighing and starting to strip off most of his armor. He left the helmet on. 

“Is it because you want to sleep without your helmet?” Dynn asked. The child was already tucked into the blankets and had been quickly on his way to sleep before noticing his guardians had decided to take their time tonight. 

He looked up at them grumpily and made an irritated sound that had Dynn picking him back up. 

The Mandalorian just shook his head. “No, I just.. wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” Dynn allowed his gaze to linger as the Mandalorian turned slightly away, the strong lines of his back more visible now that his armor was off and safely tucked into the space near their makeshift nest. 

The child grumbled again, apparently not content to simply be held any more and Dynn set him down. The mood of the room seemed tense, charged with some kind of drama that Dynn hadn’t realized was building. 

But before he could think of something to do about it himself, he was lifted off his feet and pulled down into the pile of blankets, the Mandalorian landing right on top of him. 

The Mandalorian quickly adjusted, the next few moments a tangle of limbs and flustered movements that Dynn absolutely didn’t find wonderful as the Mandalorian fought against accidentally crushing him, his weight a solid warmth against the cold of the desert night. It didn’t actually take long before the two of them were more of less settled as usual, Dynn shooting a less than subtle glare towards their little troublemaker. 

The child looked at the two of them, satisfied, before crawling over and curling himself between them, finally falling asleep as his guardians stared, dumbstruck. Womprat. 

“Well, that settles it, I guess,” the Mandalorian said, and Dynn couldn’t do anything but agree before falling asleep himself. And maybe he really didn’t mind so much, when the decisions were taken from him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... March was... so long. It was so long. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed that. And I really hope all of you are doing okay right now, stay safe.


	8. Chapter 8

After a couple of weeks, the ship was almost fly-able. At least according to the Mandalorian. Liita was of a slightly different opinion and had at some point mentioned the concept of courting death. Dynn thought he was simply impatient.

He knew the feeling. 

It was especially warm one day when Dynn went out to check on the ship himself. He’d wanted to see if he’d left a spare shirt somewhere on it that he could wear, since he’d been reliant on the clothes the Mandalorian had bought him on that first planet. And he was worried he might begin to irritate their host if his clothing wore any thinner. 

But once he’d walked on board he heard the door start to close behind him. Confused, Dynn turned towards the controls to see if they had malfunctioned only to see an unfamiliar face smiling at him. 

“You look pretty soft for a stormtrooper.“ The stranger took a step closer, his blaster held in a tight grip. He wasn’t close enough for Dynn to do anything about it though. “Is that why you couldn’t cut it? Had to run away with daddy mandalorian?” 

Dynn just rolled his eyes and waited for him to get closer, but he didn’t. Instead, the stranger pulled out a mask with his free hand and fit it over his face. Dynn cursed when he realized and tried to run, get out of the small enclosed space that was the ship’s bay, but it was too late. The stranger released a thick gas that made Dynn’s head swim, and suddenly standing was too much effort, never mind sprinting past a fully prepared bounty hunter. 

At least the stranger had the good courtesy to catch him when he fell. Dynn waited for his senses to be overtaken entirely by darkness, but it never came. Instead his head continued to swim, and his limbs felt like lead, but he watched as the stranger dragged him away from their little encampment. Away from the Mandalorian and the child. 

He thanked whatever diety he saw the Mandalorian pray to that he hadn’t brought the kid with him. When it came to parenting, it was pretty clear the Mandalorian was a better fit anyways. It had been nice, being Dynn Jaren for a bit. He really would have liked it if he could have stayed Dynn Jaren instead of being DI-917, but he supposed it didn’t really matter what he liked. It never had. 

He hadn’t liked Moff Gideon much after all, and he’d been stationed as his personal guard, all due to his exemplary performance. What a bitter taste, or was that just left over from the gas?

Dynn tried to turn his head. Everything looked blurry and formless, a mixture of colors that melted into each other. He almost thought he heard someone call his name from a galaxy away. And he was floating, but his limbs were so heavy, so maybe he was really sinking? But he wasn’t underwater. 

Because he could still breathe, and he was warm. Or was he really cold? He’d seen other snowtroopers die before, their armor damaged in the snow, leaving them freezing until suddenly they weren’t, and the armor seemed too warm, and they took it off so they could sleep in the soft welcoming embrace of the snow around them. But they wouldn’t wake up after that.

Dynn had stopped moving, or was he done sinking? Either way he was looking up at a very blurry sun, which was blocked out by an even blurrier shadow calling his name from far away, like a ventriloquist. Something warm pressed gently against his cheek and turned his head further towards the blurry shape. It was asking him something, so Dynn tried to respond past the cotton in his mouth. 

Luckily it seemed he wouldn’t have to do much else, because the edges of his swimming vision had finally decided to go dark instead. And Dynn took a nap. 

Corin had woken when Dynn tried to sneak out of their shared pile of blankets, watching the strong muscles of his back move as he stretched, a soft yawn forcing Corin’s attention to his mouth instead. He was a handsome man, and something about his lax, sleepy posture and mussed hair made an enchanting sight. So Corin allowed himself the small pleasure of watching Dynn in the mornings, not daring to move or make a sound should he be caught. 

It was just a small gift to himself, nothing wrong with just watching, not when no one could tell. 

Corin waited until Dynn had thrown on an old shirt and went outside before shifting himself, and trying to sit up without waking the child. Alas, he was unsuccessful, the child groaning irritably as he clung tighter to Corin’s undershirt. 

“Hush, Adika,” he whispered, “Let me put on my armor, and I’ll fix you something to eat okay?” 

The child didn’t hush, and instead tried to sleepily pull him back into bed, but fortunately his half conscious state did not lend itself to a strong use of whatever magic it was he possessed and Corin was able to finish dressing himself with minimal trouble. 

Then he went about grinding vegetables and some bone marrow together to make a kind of porridge for breakfast. At least, breakfast for the child, he would figure out something else for himself and Dynn when he came back inside. Luckily, by now the child had realized that his favourite caretaker had wandered off already and as such had given up entirely on dragging Corin back into the bed, as he was only worth so much alone. 

It had been almost a treat to discover the child considered the two adults to be a mandatory part of his bedding, at least to Corin. Dynn had rolled his eyes and said something along the lines of _little warriors need to be able to sleep in any condition._

The child had just dragged the two of them into bed with him and Corin had laughed and said that Dynn was warrior enough for two, so of course the child would be spoiled and it had been… nice. Almost domestic. 

Corin swallowed down the insecurities that rose at those thoughts and watched the child devour his food. Their child. Dynn wanted him to be taken in as a Mandalorian, which meant…

Which meant Dynn didn’t know what he was asking. But Corin was far too selfish to tell him just yet. 

He was almost finished moulding some of the beskar they’d earned. He was no armorer, but he had always considered himself to be good with his hands, and it was turning out nicer than he’d assumed it would. Perhaps there was a truth to the old saying that hands worked better when they worked with passion. Either way, it was almost finished when Corin realized Dynn had been gone for longer than he should be. 

What was he doing outside that took so much of the morning? Especially with the heat of this planet when their gracious host hadn’t even woken up yet to order them about. 

Something like a chill ran down Corin’s back and he put away the beskar that he’d been moulding and the tools required. He quickly picked up the child and barged into Liita’s room. 

“Mando?” she blinked up at him, clearly unhappy about being woken up so suddenly. “What are you-?”

“Watch the child, I need to check on something,” Corin said, practically tossing the now fully awake infant at her. She glared, “please?” he added.

But he didn’t wait for a response before he was outside and quickly stalking towards their mostly fixed ship. For all he knew Dynn was just working on something, and had lost track of time. That was a perfectly normal thing to do, even if he’d never done it before. 

Dynn had a strange knack for knowing exactly what time it was at any given instant and Corin had been deeply impressed that he was able to wake up at the same time every morning, despite the planet they were on, or how long they had been traveling in hyperspace. 

The ship was empty, and Corin felt his heart quicken, where else would he have gone? 

There really wasn’t anywhere else to go, except maybe the water well, but they’d visited yesterday and had plenty left over for the rest of the week. And the water pots were still inside Liita’s home anyways, so unless the child’s power was contagious, Corin doubted he’d go all the way there without one. 

He tried to look for clues, for a sign of struggle, or a note, anything that could tell him exactly where his wayward companion had disappeared to. But he couldn’t see anything unusual. 

In fact, the only thing weird at all was that the ship smelt like….

Like…

Kriff. 

Corin ran out of the ship and engaged his helmet’s heat seeking feature. But it was too late, whoever had taken Dynn was long gone and Corin had missed it because he was too busy fantasizing about what could be instead of paying attention to the present here and now. 

There was something however, that both snow and sand had in common, and it was that footprints were rather difficult to hide. Especially if you’re dragging a half conscious human around with you. 

Corin just had to figure out where- there. A set of tracks heading north until the kidnapper had climbed onto what was likely a speeder and took off. Corin couldn’t hunt them down on foot then, but Liita had a scooter that worked lying around, and surely she wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it. 

Not that it really mattered, Dynn was in danger after all. 

It wasn’t hard to get the speeder working, and it was even easier, trained as a bounty hunter himself, to follow the tracks that was left behind by whoever it was that stole Dynn away. Was it an attack of opportunity? Why Dynn and not the child? Were they both part of the bounty and whoever it was decided it would be easier to just grab Dynn instead of grabbing both him and the child? Then why not grab the child? 

Well, probably because they’d expect that. Dynn could take care of himself after all. 

Unless he was drugged. 

Corin pushed the speeder even more, desperate for any speed he could add. Who knew how much time he’d already wasted. How far away Dynn could be. 

Luckily it wasn’t too long before two heat signatures popped up on his visor view screen. They weren’t traveling as fast, probably due to the difficulty of balancing two people on a one person speeder. So Corin followed close behind, but not close enough to be heard.

It wasn’t much longer before they crested a mound of sand that revealed a damaged, but familiar ship. A ship that Corin was fairly certain they’d shot down weeks ago. 

He unmounted as the kidnapper struggled to drag Dynn off his own scooter and towards his ship. Corin moved without thinking, his blaster hitting true but glancing off unfamiliar armor. Kriff. Dynn seemed to look towards him, his head rolling slow and languid. He called out to him and the kidnapper was forced to drop him as Corin sent a wave of blaster fire towards him. 

Once he’d forced the man far enough away from Dynn he switched weapons, taking out his rifle and practically obliterating him. The bounty hunter’s armor was useless against it. 

Corin threw his rifle across his back once more and ran towards Dynn’s prone form, “Please be okay, please be okay.“

Dynn’s eyes were glazed over and he didn’t seem to recognize Corin at all, but his heart beat steadily and his skin wasn’t overly warm, so Corin let out a breath of relief. “Dynn,” Corin said turning his face towards him, “Dynn I need to know if you’re okay.”

Corin asked again, just a bit louder and Dynn finally opened his mouth to respond. “I don’t really like snow.”

Then he closed his eyes and slumped entirely in Corin’s arms and Corin could do nothing but laugh softly as he watched him sleep. He tied the bounty hunter’s speeder to his own, Liita would probably accept it as an apology for stealing hers, and made sure Dynn was comfortable in his arms as he sped back to where he’d left the child and their own ship. 

Dynn would probably appreciate waking up somewhere familiar. 

  
It took Dynn a few tries to pry his eyes open. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and his mouth was almost painfully dry. He hadn’t even fully sat up before a glass of water was being pressed against his lips and he gratefully drank from it. 

“How are you feeling?” The Mandalorian was sitting next to him, apparently he’d been laid out on Liita’s bed instead of the pile of blankets their little trio had claimed as their own. 

“What… happened?”

The Mandalorian sighed and leaned back, “The bounty hunter we shot down found us, and he came after you. Almost got you to his ship before I was able to hunt him down and get you back.” 

Dynn noticed the Mandalorian's hands tighten around the glass he was holding. Was he angry he'd had to come to Dynn's rescue?

Vague memories flashed through Dynn’s mind and he grimaced, “I wasn’t expecting the gas… he caught me off guard. Sorry.”

Dynn shook his head but the Mandalorian just looked up at him, confusion colored his words, “Why? I’m the one who failed to protect you, you were taken off guard by a bounty hunter, I should have been there to keep an eye on you instead of-”

“Where was the child?” Dynn interrupted. 

“With me, eating breakfast,” the Mandaolrian responded quickly, “When I realized you were gone, I left him with Liita while I tried to find you.” 

Dynn smiled softly, then leaned back against the pillows behind him, “So you were taking care of the child? Why would you have been worrying about me when we both agreed that he was our first priority? It’s not like he left a note.”

The Mandalorian nodded, “Still-”

“You got me back, right? We’ll worry about what ifs, if they happen. I’m fine now, you protected the kid, you got me back, it’s all fine.“ He grabbed the Mandalorian‘s hand and squeezed it gently. He was tired, but he didn’t want the man that had saved his life multiple times now to keep thinking he was anything less than everything Dynn needed. 

“It’s fine…,” the Mandalorian whispered before leaning towards him and pressing his helmet to Dynn’s forehead. Just staying there, breathing for a moment, before pulling away and standing. 

Dynn’s chest felt tight, like he couldn’t breathe. The touch of beskar had been cool, but left the rest of him warm, and Dynn looked up at his Mandalorian with almost desperate eyes, but he had already turned away and headed for the door. 

“I’ll get the child, he was worried about you. We had to keep him away so he didn’t spend all his energy healing you when you just needed to sleep it off.”

His voice stuck in his throat, so instead Dynn just nodded, even though there was no way the Mandalorian could see it. The door clicked softly behind him as he left, and Dynn lifted a hand to touch just above his eyes, only to lower it back down to rest in his lap.

It had felt somehow more intimate than anything they’d shared before, and Dynn found himself absentmindedly stroking the skin of his wrist, where he first felt how gentle those hands could be. The first time he’d ever felt anything close to fragile. 

He swallowed the feeling and tried to chase away the blush that was no doubt obvious without a helmet to hide it behind. But he couldn’t quite chase away the warmth that had bloomed in his chest. That, he kept just for himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long this took.


	9. Glitched

The Mandalorian didn’t let them wait any longer than the time it took for Dynn to wake before the four of them were leaving the planet they’d used as a refuge these past few weeks.

Dynn had told Liita she needn’t come with them, that they were headed somewhere safe, but she had rolled her eyes and insisted if she let them go with the bucket of bolts they called a ship they’d never make it without a damn good mechanic.

The Mandalorian apparently didn’t count.

It must have been quite the blow to his ego, but Dynn had simply reminded him they were leaving early on _his_ insistence so being upset that their one friend didn’t want them to die from something apparently preventable was quite ridiculous. But it only served to close him off more and Dynn had stopped and tried a separate tactic entirely.

He reminded the Mandalorian of how impressed Dynn was when he saw that he was not only a talented bounty hunter but a decent mechanic and a clever teacher since Dynn had started the voyage fully unable to fly and had become relatively competent by the time they’d gotten shot down.

Dynn hadn’t thought of himself as the type to be protected before, but clearly the Mandalorian had different ideas entirely as Dynn had yet to have a moment to himself before they left without a certain tall, dark, and competent leaning in the doorway or sitting somewhere nearby, never far enough away for Dynn to leave his line of sight.

So, they’d left and Dynn had gone on permanent babysitter duty, as if it were any kind of chore to look after the little womprat. He held the child close to his chest and thought about the future that could be. The child having a covert to call home, to grow up protected by the toughest warriors in the galaxy, being surrounded by people like the Mandalorian who had swooped into their lives and flew them away into the stars like a holo-drama.

His thoughts from earlier surfaced and he allowed himself a chuckle before voicing them out loud to the child, his ever present and easily distracted audience.

“I wonder, does that make me the damsel in distress jealously guarded by a booby-trapped cave and ferocious Sarlac?”

Dynn smiled, and the child seemed to pick up on his good humor, a soft gurgle that could have meant anything and a long slow blink of his large open eyes the only response to his question.

“You don't see yourself as the hero in shining plate-mail?” Liita asked conversationally, a reminder that it wasn’t only the two of them in the cargo hull.

“That part seems pretty well taken, I think.” Dynn shrugged, his silly metaphor quickly getting out of his hands. He fought the urge to flush in embarrassment, there was no way he would have said that aloud if he’d remembered they had company.

It was just so familiar, being back in the Razor Crest with the child in his arms, the Mandalorian in the cockpit as they traveled from planet to planet. It was almost difficult to fit her into what felt like a finished puzzle.

Not that he wasn’t grateful for everything she had done for them. Dynn was just…

He didn’t know what he was feeling to be fair. But whatever it was it must have shown on his face because Liita nodded her head like she had decided something. And then she picked up some random tool to fiddle with.

“It’s not exactly ‘shining’ is it?” She said, conversationally.

Dynn just smiled and shook his head. “You should see the stack of it he got from Gideon. It’s beautiful. What he’s wearing now only looks like that because it’s saved his life too many times to count.”

And he would always be grateful to it for that. Could understand why the Mandalorians treated it like their religion, when Dynn could look at it and know exactly where and how it had protected his own Mandalorian.

“You see what he’s been working on?” There was something mischievous in Liita’s voice, a hint that she knew something Dynn did not.

He glanced over at her, but the intimidation of the action was undercut when the child crawled awkwardly over his lap and Dynn had to pick him up to avoid unwanted damage to a certain region.

“No,” he bit out as the child thrashed a little too much and a foot, tiny though it was, kicked into his unguarded stomach. It hurt only in that it was unexpected and Dynn threw the child partially over his shoulder, allowing him to crawl down Dynn’s back and drop into a small green bundle of tangled limbs. “He’s been very secretive of it.”

Liita actually had the audacity to laugh at Dynn’s struggle with the child. It was only natural; he’d had so long to run around and explore only to be crammed into a pressurized tin-can for the next few days. Any child would feel restless, Dynn certainly did and it was only decades of strict rules and training that had him sitting still now.

“Yes, he has been. But I am nosy, and he has to sleep sometime.”

That had Dynn interested. “Oh? And what was it?”

The mischief was back in her eyes. “A secret.”

Figured. It clearly wasn’t any fun if Dynn was in on the secret.

He was just about to stand and grab something from their rations for the child to eat when the entire ship jolted sharply. He turned to Liita, but she only shook her head, eyes darting around for any sign of wear or tear that could cause the sudden turbulence.

“There’s no way this ship is falling apart so early on, I put half my soul into fixing it,” Liita almost growled as she walked towards the faintly whirling machinery in the walls that Dynn had never bothered to learn the name of.

Dynn simply held the child tighter before a thought came to him, “That wasn’t you, right?” the child shook his head and Dynn sighed. It was probably nothing, things like this happened sometimes and they were all just jumpy because the last time it happened… well they were all still here right?

The child whined loudly and Dynn realized he’d been holding onto him a little too tight. He let go quickly to compensate and the child pushed away and practically jumped out of his lap, tottling over to Liita instead. Dynn didn’t let it hurt his feelings and simply allowed himself to stand up and stretch now that his lap was no longer occupied.

Another jolt had him flying face first into the bay door and Dynn found himself almost wishing for his bucket as he prodded tenderly at his sore nose. He didn’t have long to think however, as the ship started thrashing around and he had to grab hold of what he could to keep himself from being thrown around with it.

Liita had thankfully grabbed the child before he could get hurt and had wedged them tightly into a corner, keeping them from moving as the ship continued to convulse.

“What’s happening?” Dynn shouted over the noise of the ship.

“How would I know?” Liita shouted back, curling even tighter around the child, “It’s not like I can see outside right now!”

Dynn cursed their luck and started wondering if the Mandalorian’s goddess would accept his prayers before his vision suddenly went double. It hurt, like he was being torn apart at the seams of who he was and then put back together again, stitch by painful stitch. He thought he could hear a scream, and then a sharp whine.

He was fairly sure he was even screaming himself. He tried to pry his eyes open, to check on the child, see if the two of them were still okay as a loud ringing overpowered all of the other sounds around him, muffling them and filling his head with a staticky cotton.

There were two Liita’s. He blinked, cursing his double vision, but the other Liita was still there, identical in every way except position. Dynn shook his head and another jolt of turbulence tore through the ship.

This time, when Dynn fought to open his eyes, standing across from him and clutching a familiar green child in his arms, was a Mandalorian. An unfamiliar one with new, shining beskar, but _their child was in his arms_.

Dynn threw himself forward, but the Mandalorian dodged out of his way, leaving Dynn to fly into the machinery that had been beside him. The Mandalorian fought just as much as Dynn to stand upright in the shakiness of the ship. There was stark confusion in his movements, and he seemed to curl around the child, protective. Dynn almost threw himself at him again when he heard a familiar coo from his right and looked down to see the child still held in Liita’s arms.

What?

Holding his head against the splitting headache, Dynn looked back at the strange Mandalorian. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Liita and the child, or at least, his helmet hadn’t turned back in Dynn’s direction. But something seemed to soften in him when he did and Dynn could swear the man was smiling underneath when another sharp jolt caught them before Dynn had something to hold onto and he was flung once more through the cargo bay.

Corin was _not_ flying distracted, if anything he was hyper focused. What could be out there, waiting for them? Who all was after the child, was after Dynn? Were they getting close? How would Corin protect them? Could Corin protect them?

What would Corin have done if he hadn’t found Dynn in time?

He was simply too focused on the possibilities of being attacked, on every creak and groan of the ship that could mean it was falling apart and that Corin was _wrong, wrong, wrong again,_ and that the ship was going to fall apart because he wasn’t a good enough mechanic to notice on his own what was and wasn’t acceptable to fly in.

That’s why he didn’t notice the edge of the nebula they had been flying around was storming, an electric current crackling around in the clouds of dust and gas. At least until one of those currents shot out suddenly and hit the Razor Crest, jolting it sharply and pulling Corin quickly out of his thoughts and into the cockpit properly as he twisted the vessel further away.

It seemed to work at first, Corin had put a good distance between them and the storm, but the electricity had already taken a liking to the ship and another strike latched onto them before they could get fully out of range.

This one had been stronger, almost coating the ship and causing the vessel to spasm and jump as the electricity wore itself out around it. Corin felt his head split with a painful ache, his vision almost doubling as he fought to keep the controls steady. They just had to hold on and not get any closer, it would stop once it was completely devoid of power, Corin just didn’t know exactly how long that would be.

The worrying part was that Dynn or Liita hadn’t been up to complain about his piloting yet.

Corin turned to look at the entrance to the cockpit, his guts twisting in worry about the others down there. Had they been able to tie themselves down? Grab something sturdy? Surely none of them were hurt right?

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the vague image of a person in his periphery, Corin turned more fully towards him, wanting to apologize for his terrible piloting. But the person next to him in the cockpit wasn’t Dynn, it was… himself?

Corin froze, was he seeing things? Could the nebula’s storm have messed with his head? Why was there a Corin standing next to him, without a helmet and only wearing incomplete beskar?

The other Corin looked just as confused as he felt and seemed to be trying to say something to him, but all Corin could hear was a loud ringing, everything else had been muffled. But then the ship jolted once more, and just as suddenly as he had been there, the other Corin was gone.

The ship’s controls eased, and the nebula and its storm were far behind them so Corin turned on the autopilot and quickly made his way down to the ship’s hull. He needed to check on the others, if he hurt them because he couldn’t pilot his own spacecraft Corin didn’t know what he would do.

So he practically jumped down the ladder before being tackled by a familiar weight and the two of them collapsed onto the floor of the hull. Corin groaned and was thankful that he was wearing his helmet, as he didn’t imagine that experience would have been much improved with a concussion.

There was a muffled voice against his beskar and Corin forced himself to sit up, taking Dynn with him. “What did you say?” he asked.

“I said,” Dynn’s voice was clear and easy to understand without all the beskar in the way, “please tell me this one is _my_ Mandalorian.”

Corin felt himself heat a thousand degrees underneath his helm before he could find it in himself to clear his thoughts. “Uh, tried and true? Why do you ask?”

Liita released the child she had been holding so that he could crawl into their laps, and answered, “We saw some weird things, Mando. You drive us through a nebula storm or something?”

Corin flinched. “Something like that.”

Liita nodded, like he’d just confirmed something for her, and stepped over the three of them before climbing up into the cockpit. Clearly, she hadn’t been impressed.

Dynn just sighed and leaned into him and Corin stiffened, doing everything he could not to remember the words Dynn had so carelessly blessed him with just moments before. _My Mandalorian_. It was clear he didn’t mean it in any particularly intimate way, only as a comparative description. Obviously, he was the only Mandalorian Dynn had ever been particularly close with, so it made sense as a way to differentiate them.

It wasn’t as if he’d ever given Dynn his name.

“Corin.”

Dynn’s head shot up and Corin found himself drowning in the beauty of his eyes. There was something in them beyond open confusion, something bright and fervent and Corin had to swallow down any other words he was going to say because he could no longer trust himself to say them properly.

“Corin?” Dynn asked slowly, pulling the child into his lap and faking nonchalance so poorly it even made Corin seem like a good actor. “Who is that?”

His mouth was dry, why was it that the midst of a fight with his life and dignity as a Mandalorian on the line was easy compared to giving the man he… cared about his own name to call him by? Was it simply that he hadn’t used it in so long? The only ones to ever call him by it were the other Mandalorians after all and they had known him since he was a child.

It was hardly part of their culture to introduce themselves.

The silence had stretched thin, and what had been an atmosphere of careful anticipation was becoming anxious and fretful.

Corin cleared his throat. “It’s uh, my name,” he explained, each word was like pulling nails, he’d never felt so purposefully exposed. What kind of Mandalorian was named Corin anyways? “Since we’re going to the Covert, and there’s a lot of us there.”

Dynn smiled, soft and sweet, and Corin didn’t really think he had done anything to deserve a reward quite like that, but he selfishly drank it in anyways as Dynn whispered his name. “Corin, it’s nice to meet you properly.”

And Corin thought that actually his name was rather nice, especially when spoken aloud on those lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry T^T it's just a filler chapter.


	10. A heavy proposal

“So, Corin,” Dynn said, still getting used to saying his Mandalorian’s name. It was a special kind of thrill, to know something that felt as intimate as that. It had been an eventful journey, but they had finally landed on the planet Corin’s covert was apparently hidden on. “Any advice for a good first impression?”

He was mostly joking; the first impression wasn’t what was worrying Dynn. Afterall, when he first met his own Mandalorian, he’d been on the other side of a job. And they were both technically working for Moff Gideon, so not exactly the type anyone would be lining up to meet.

But Corin didn’t answer right away, to answer the question or respond to it as a jest so Dynn stopped packing his satchel and looked up. His Mandalorian was staring at him, tension lacing every line of his body and Dynn immediately tried to backtrack. Did he say something wrong?

“Is it that bad?” he asked, and it seemed to knock Corin out of whatever trance he had been in.

“No, it’s not bad,” he said and then shook his head and tried again, “I mean, I’m not worried. Uh, about you. Or the Kid!”

“You seem nervous,” Dynn countered, “has it been long since you came back?”

Corin just shook his head again and Dynn was going to try a different avenue of questions to get to the bottom of his Mandalorian’s odd behavior, but Corin walked past him to the part of the cargo hold where he had been keeping the beskar.

Did that have something to do with it? Was his covert expecting more than the amount they had collected from Gideon? Dynn had assumed it was a decent amount, but he wasn’t a Mandalorian, didn’t know how much they needed or what it was really worth to them, so it could be possible. Though the thought of it left a sour taste in his mouth, would Corin’s family truly expect so much of him?

“It hasn’t been too long, but… this will be my first time since leaving the Bounty Hunter’s Guild.” Corin said as he pulled something out from the cabinet. Dynn didn’t crane his head to look, he wanted to, but if he was meant to see it Dynn was sure Corin would show him. As it was he sat patiently, allowing his discipline to take over and wait for the commanding officer to finish speaking.

“But I want- I mean I should…” Corin was stumbling on his words, and Dynn was starting to find it endearing. Corin's emotions had become easy to read despite the constant presence of the helmet and Dynn had found he didn’t even mind the barrier. If that was partially aided by his own experiences as a Stormtrooper, then so be it. But Dynn didn’t think that was the entire reason. Corin took a breath and settled his shoulders. “This is yours.”

Dynn was caught entirely off guard when Corin turned towards him with a full breastplate of beskar armor, beautifully crafted and delicately detailed. It was exquisite, and expensive and decidedly _not_ Dynn’s so he wasn’t entirely sure where Corin had gotten the idea.

But before he could correct the misconception Corin was already stepping very, _very_ close and Dynn felt heat rise up the back of his neck and willed it not to show as the Mandalorian placed a gloved hand ever so gently on his chest, over the wound he had gotten escaping Gideon. The wound that would have killed him if the child had not saved his life. Dynn’s breath hitched, his eyes drawn to the hand as it pulled away and he almost didn’t realize when Corin started to strap on the chestplate.

He should say something, deny it. This beskar was important, he knew it was, Corin had been willing to bend to Moff Gideon for it. Dynn was a stormtrooper, he’d spent his entire life in the cheapest plastoid credits could buy and survived in that alone. He was an expendable tool, worth less as a person than even a portion of the armor that was being strapped so delicately over his chest. But he… didn’t want to.

That should have startled him more, the realization that he was no longer counting himself as an expendable part of a whole, it wasn’t right, went against his instincts, but maybe for just a little bit he could pretend. Could wear the beskar.

His mouth was dry, but he tried to speak anyways, wetting his lips and trying to ignore just how close Corin had to get to properly attach the armor to him. “Where’s yours?”

Corin took a step back, “I have my old armor, I’d rather protect you.” His helmet was still turned down, his hand had gone back to resting over Dynn’s chest.

Dynn grabbed his wrist, not letting him pull any further away. “I accept-” Corin nodded, tension draining out of him, but Dynn wasn’t finished, “but I’ll only wear it if you promise to upgrade your own armor first from now on.”

_Stay by my side,_ he doesn’t say. Dynn won’t ask that of him, not directly, he doesn’t even have the right to _want_ it. But Corin _had_ just made him beskar armor as a gift and Dynn didn’t know what to do with suddenly having something of his own, other than to hold it tight and beg it not to leave.

The bargain must have startled Corin because he almost pulled out of Dynn’s grip, “No, there’s no reas-”

Dynn didn’t let the heartbreak settle, didn’t think about the sting of rejection and didn’t bother to let Corin finish. He wasn’t supposed to want something so precious in the first place, he’d known that when he’d asked and it was easy to push the pain away, lock it up and continue forward. But he also wasn’t the type to give up easily with a goal in mind.

And at the very least, protecting his Mandalorian was a noble goal indeed.

“You think I haven’t noticed your armor has been compromised? Probably since long before we met too, there’s only so much longer it has. What would we do without you? Where would the child go if you got yourself killed when there’s enough beskar for two?” Dynn had been stepping closer and crowding the Mandalorian back against the ladder to the cockpit until he hit his back to it and could back away no further.

He could tell Corin was still going to protest so he racked his mind quickly for something to use, an excuse to get his stupid Mandalorian to protect himself properly. “Or doesn’t what I want matter at all?”

That should work.

And it did, Corin deflated completely, turned his hand in Dynn’s grip, and stroked gently at the soft skin there. It was almost like he was taking stock of every wound Dynn had gotten since they’d met, calculating the need to protect him versus the need to encourage his journey towards individualism. Dynn didn’t feel bad for tricking him, it was more important that Corin be protected. That was just smart, obvious. Without him the kid _and_ Dynn were dead for sure, without Dynn Corin could raise the kid in the covert and likely have a hell of a lot less angry Moff Gideon to deal with. It was Dynn who had history with him after all.

As it was, Dynn didn’t relax until Corin spoke again. “Fine, but every piece I make for myself I make a piece for you and you _wear it,_ okay?”

Dynn just smiled. “Of course.” He wondered if his Mandalorian would keep making himself armor if something happened to Dynn. He hoped so. For the kid’s sake, if not his own.

It did make Dynn wonder how much beskar Corin has earned and given away just like this, never bothering to mend his own defenses, always putting others first. How long had it been since he had been properly protected?

“Are you two done making out or can we come down?”

Dynn looked up, mortified, to see Liita and the child at the top of the ladder above them, waiting to climb down fully. Had the two of them been blocking them from leaving this entire time while they argued over beskar? Or had they just gotten there and Liita decided to take this chance to embarrass them?

“We’re done,” Corin said awkwardly and Dynn stepped back allowing him to escape and Liita to climb down the stairs. She handed the child to him with a smirk and he scowled. The child cooed and Dynn’s attention turned entirely towards him, tugging softly on his ears and the child admired his reflection in Dynn’s new beskar.

Yeah, this could work.

Corin was doing everything he could not to hyperventilate. He’d accepted it. Dynn had accepted the beskar. It was like a dream, a fantasy even.

Except it wasn’t, because Corin had lied. Not with so many words, but by omission. Dynn had no clue what it meant, it was obvious by the fact that he’d accepted it so easily, much less accepted it at all. Was it immoral to trick him like this?

But Corin didn’t want Dynn to meet the other Mandalorians exposed as he was. There were countless beautiful and capable Mandalorians in the covert that would see how amazing Dynn was, and Corin didn’t want them to think he was available. Even if, technically, Dynn was. It was selfish of him, but Corin already considered Dynn and the child family, and he didn’t want to lose them to another Mandalorian just because he wasn’t good enough.

Dynn made him feel like he could take on the galaxy so long as he was at Corin’s side. Was it wrong to covet that?

Corin shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. He needed to get quicker at making armor if he was going to keep Dynn’s deal. He’d accepted to wear armor and Corin didn’t want him to leave the covert without a full set.

He had just wanted to make sure his heart was protected first.

Dynn stood next to him at the bay door, the child giggling happily in his arms, clearly as thrilled as Corin was to see the shining beskar on his father’s chest. To see proof that he was being protected, that Corin was protecting him.

And he would, until he could fight no more and took his last breath, Corin would protect Dynn and his child. Nothing could bring him more joy.

The bay door opened and the four of them stepped out and Corin took the lead, soon they would be with the covert, and everyone Corin cared about would be in one place. He hoped they got along.

Just not _too_ well.

“It’s just over here,” he said and pointed towards the hidden entrance. Dynn nodded and followed as they turned towards it.

Before they could get across the busy marketplace that had formed from the bounty hunter guild’s presence on the planet, Corin heard a familiar voice. “Mando! Glad to see you made it back in one piece.”

Zev’sonya wasn’t really a friend of Corin’s, but Corin didn’t consider her _not_ a friend so he stopped and turned towards her. She’s been an integral part of Corin’s livelihood ever since he’d joined the guild and it would only serve to hinder him if he managed to piss her off for being rude.

So he nodded his head at Dynn, telling him to go ahead without him and Dynn must have gotten the message because he hardly broke stride before slinking off with the child and disappearing into the crowd.

A lone human shouldn’t stand out much on a planet like this, child or no. People don’t really ask questions here.

Zev’sonya was still smiling, a sharp dangerous thing, even as she watched Corin’s companion leave. “That a new client? Do you never take a break?”

“No,” Corin said, answering one of her questions but not the other. He had to be careful, Zev’sonya wasn’t exactly known for being easily deceived. She’s been betrayed before after all, and was hardly about to let it happen again. Corin needed to end this conversation. The longer it dragged on, the more likely he could mess up and cast suspicion, but leaving suddenly without a word would cast suspicion too.

Corin was a Mandalorian, but he’d made something of an impression among the guild as a friendly one and Zev’sonya knew that.

“No?” there was a touch of humor in her voice and Corin tried not to over think. Did she know? Would Moff Gideon bother to tell the guild what had transpired, or would he be too embarrassed to admit he was beaten by one of his own stormtroopers? “Of course not, I was gonna catch up and offer you a new job, but apparently you’ve got that covered.”

“It was a long trip back.” Corin was itching to find Dynn and get him down into the covert where it was safe. What if she knew he’d betrayed the guild and there were bounty hunters all over the market that could notice Dynn and steal both him and the child away while Corin was distracted? She didn’t take traitors lightly.

“I bet,” Zev’sonya’s eyes flicked down, over his armor, “no upgrades? Where does all that beskar go when you're done with a job?”

Corin didn’t answer and eventually she just laughed and waved her hand at him as if they’d both been in on a joke together, “I understand, Mandalorians and your secrets. Well, I won’t keep you if you don’t need a new job, but I’m here when you do.”

Without bothering to say anything else, Corin nodded and walked away, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t have time to think about Zev’sonya and their awkward conversation. Dynn, where was Dynn? He looked around the crowds for a familiar head of curly hair and the eye catching green of the child. He had to be somewhere- there.

Dynn was standing by a vendor’s cart, holding the child and buying some kind of treat for him to chew on while they waited for Corin to return to them. The child tugged at him and pointed over to Corin as he made his way towards them. Dynn looked up and caught his gaze, a smile graced his face, barely noticeable at this distance, but it echoed Corin’s own.

He picked up his pace to get to them but Dynn’s expression suddenly changed. Corin didn’t slow his steps, made no outward sign he’d noticed anything at all and made an assumption based on the angle of Dynn’s eyes before stepping quickly to the side and reaching out to grab the flat end of a rather heavy baton. It stung his palm as it made contact, but he managed to keep the attacker’s momentum and twisted it out of his grip.

It was a tall Twi’lik, almost purple, with an obnoxiously confident smirk even as Corin disarmed him. Which meant he wasn’t alone and Corin narrowly dodged a blaster bolt that skidded off the rounded edge of a pauldron. It was a Twi’lik woman who looked an awfully lot like his current assailant, so Corin figured they must be siblings before he twisted the wrist in his grip further and used it to throw him at her.

He took a moment as they righted themselves to take out his own weapon, quickly pointing it towards them and stepping confidently closer, “Who are you and-?”

Corin didn’t get to finish before he felt a painful jolt spread from the middle of his back through the rest of his body and he struggled to stay conscious. There must have been someone else the siblings were distracting him from, someone with a riot rifle and good aim. Corin staggered, and tried to turn enough to fire back, but he got hit once more and everything went dark. 

Dynn was running towards his Mandalorian, child in one arm and pistol held, aimed and ready in the other. Corin could handle himself, _was_ handling himself, until a kriffing _droid_ shot him from halfway across the square and Dynn had to watch as Corin’s beskar failed, as he staggered and fell after being shot _again_ before Dynn was within range of the group of sith-spit that were collecting around _his_ Mandalorian.

The first shot took out the biggest guy, a large Devaronian with red skin that looked like he was going to grab Corin’s helmet, the second took out the human next to him before the rest of the group had finally noticed and started shooting back, heedless of the crowds of people rushing between and around them.

Cursing, Dynn ducked behind a stand, watching as the market fell to chaos at the gunfight that had ensued. He set the child down to free his arms and took out another pistol. Firing from behind their new cover, he was able to take out another one before the rest of the group saw where he was hidden and focused their fire towards him. But they weren’t touching Corin and that was what mattered.

The child was silent and Dynn spared a moment to check on him, worried he’d wandered off towards the fight as he had occasionally done before. But no, he was there, tucked between Dynn and the flimsy stand that was currently shielding them from sight. He was shaking, softly, and his little hands were fisted tightly into Dynn’s trousers. It broke Dynn’s heart to see, but there was nothing he could truly do but continue to protect them for now and hope that this would be the last firefight the child would see for some time.

The blasters quieted, and Dynn chanced a peak out into the market. It wasn’t as empty as he’d expected, but then again, this close to what was apparently the bounty hunters guild, and a hidden Mandalorian covert, he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

It did give him an idea though.

The next stand wasn’t too far away, so Dynn grabbed the kid into his arms and duck and rolled quickly behind it. He was probably seen, rather easily, but he did it again and again, until he was behind another stand that was stacked closer to the center of the square and positioned slightly in front of two others that were hidden in the shadows. He crawled backwards, the child still cradled gently to him, until he was once again directly behind another stand. It was selling blankets, scarves, and other desert necessities and Dynn grabbed a bland looking one that had fallen into the sand. The stall had been abandoned in a hurry, the owner likely newer to town than some of the others, and Dynn took a moment to catch his breath and check once more on the child.

He wasn’t shivering quite as much anymore, who knew, maybe he liked all the rolling around? Dynn also risked peaking his head out to check on his Mandalorian. Corin was still in the middle of the market, but the men that had ambushed him from behind were now spread out, checking behind the different stalls Dynn had been zig-zagging through.

They hadn’t found this one yet so Dynn crawled out from behind it and lost himself as much as he could into what was left of the crowd, hiding the child and his new beskar under the blanket he’d stolen. A single human man walking away from a fight wouldn’t draw attention, he just needed to get the child somewhere safe before he could go back for Corin.

He’d understand, even if it frustrated Dynn. The child came first, that was the mission, then he could save his idiotic, outnumbered Mandalorian that was currently lying _helpless_ in the middle of a market place on a world famous for being filled to the brim with bounty hunters and other types of scoundrels.

Dynn quickly made his way to the door Corin had pointed to earlier and knocked once. He didn’t want to try some fancy pattern or whatever and get ignored, he didn’t have time.

A gruff voice said something in Mando’a on the other side, and Dynn breathed a sigh of relief. So this was them.

“I need you to watch my kid.” No point in wasting time.

“I’m sorry, what?” the voice said, in basic this time.

“Corin got hurt, I need you to watch my kid so I can drag him to safety.”

Maybe a name drop would help, so they’d know Dynn wasn’t a complete stranger and they’d _hurry up and open the door._

As if by magic, the door flew open, and there was a tall Mandalorian on the other side, his armor blue, and almost as tarnished as Corin’s. “What happened to-”

Dynn didn’t let him finish before practically throwing the child into his arms and turning on his heel. His gaze immediately fell to where Corin was lying on the ground. Corin twitched, which either meant he was waking up, or having a seizure from taking two kriffing shots from a riot rifle, and Dynn quickened his pace.

A blaster bolt reflected off his beskar and Dynn drew a disruptor pistol in response, shooting down the droid that had spotted him, firing twice to make sure it was dead and then aiming for anyone else he recognized from the group. There was movement in the corner of his eye and Dynn stopped, stepping back and grabbing the arm of the human that had been charging at him, before twirling his body and using the assailant’s own momentum to flip them over his shoulder and onto their back. Then he shot them in the face.

“Anyone else have a problem with my Mandalorian?” he asked the crowd. There were a few mumbles, but there wasn’t enough of the assailants left to be a threat, and they scattered once they realized it.

Corin was almost starting to sit up on his own by the time Dynn got to him and lent a hand to pull him to his feet. He was unsteady, but Dynn leant him a shoulder and they wobbled their way back to where he had left the child.

“That was pretty pathetic of me.”

Dynn shook his head. “No more pathetic than when I went and got myself kidnapped on our own ship.”

Corin chuckled. “If we’re swapping back and forth, I’ll have to keep an eye out for you next.”

“I’d appreciate that,” and that wasn’t even a lie. Dynn was tired of being on the receiving end of these sith-spit sadists. Why couldn’t they meet someone nice? Even Liita was just as likely to smack him as she was to heal him.

Corin knocked on the door.

“Are you the asshole who threw their kid at me?”

“Kiergan, it’s me, can you open the door?” Corin said, his voice soft and Dynn didn’t feel a sting at the familiarity, no matter what the twist in his chest said. This was Corin’s family, of course they were familiar. It didn’t matter that _Dynn_ was a stranger.

The door swung open and the Mandalorian from before was there, the child cradled carefully in his arms and, somehow, a disapproving look to his helmet. “What mess have you gotten yourself into this time, Valentis?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry these chapters keep taking forever, I guess I'mm just not in a place where it's easy to make time for these, but as always, thank you so much to my lovely and ever patient Beta Arboreal, <3

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhhhh, no. I Don’t know what I am doing. But I tried to tie in Corin’s canon insecurities with his place as a Mandalorian so I hope that comes across. Other than that I tried to keep his sense of humor and how he doesn’t take himself as seriously as he takes others, especially those he cares about. And with Dynn I tried to keep his personality the same, but with less of the strictness that being a Mandalorian instilled into him. Let me know how I did? Sorry if they seem OOC


End file.
